
•^^ 




omance 



A Play in Three Acts 
with a Prologue 
and an Epilogue 

by 
Edward Sheldon 




pni«« Of roHtm mncm. •tat(oneiiv co., 2» wc»t 33nD «t., n. r. 



Copyright. 191 



(As a work not reproduced in copies for sale.) 

Keprdduced in copies for sale February, 1913, and copies deposited 
in copyright office i'ebruary. 1913. 







'C\ 






^VxaxxitXtx^ 



In the Prologue : 

BISHOP ARMSTRONG. 

HARRY ) 

SUZETTE j His grandchildren. 

In the Story: 

THOMAS ARMSTRONG. Rector of St. Giles. 

CORNELIUS VAN TUYL, of Van Tnyl & Co., Bankers. 

FRED LIVINGSTONE. 

HARRY PUTNAM. 

THE BUTLER at the Rectory. 

A SERVANT. 

A BELL BOY. 

MISS ARMSTRONG. The Rector's Aunt. 

MISS SUSAN VAN TUYL. 

MRS. RUTHERFORD. 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM. 

MISS FROTHINGHAM. 

SIGNORA VANNUCCI. 

MME. MARGHERITA CAVALLINI. 

GUESTS of Van Tuyl, etc. 



"My thoughts at the end of the long, long day 
Fly over the hills and far away !" 



ROMANCE. 



THE PROLOGUE: The Bishop's library in his house on Wash- 
ington Square. About ten o'clock. 



THE STORY 



ACT I. 



Over forty years ago. The blue drawing-room in Cornelius 
Van Tuyl's house, 58 Fifth Avenue. A November evening. 

ACT n. 

The Study in St. Giles' Church Rectory, East 8th Street. The 
afternoon of New Year's Eve. 

ACT HI. 

Late that night. Mme. Cavallini's apartments in the Brevoort 
House. After her farewell appearance as "Mignon." 

THE EPILOGUE: The Bishop's library again. Midnight. 

PLACE : New York. Time : Now and the '60's. 



ROMANCE. 



The Prologue 



SCENE: 

The Bishop's library in Washington Square. The two walls 
meet back at a wide angle. At right are two windows, with heavy 
curtains drawn. At left is a large fireplace and white marble 
mantel and, above it. a door. There are high bookcases running 
up to the ceiling, set in both walls, wherever there is any space. 
In corner at back, where the two walls meet, is a Victrola, of sober 
mahogany. Before the fireplace, half facing audience is the Bishop's 
big arm-chair. At right, is a big mahogany table-desk, arranged 
in an orderly way with electric lamp, telephone, desk-furniture, 
books, memoranda, files, etc. The chair is behind it. between the 
windows. The whole room is one of quiet dignity, — slightly old- 
fashioned in efifect, yet very comfortable. 

It is night. The lamp on the desk is turned on and there is 
a cheerful wood fire burning. In his arm-chair before the fiire sits 
Bishop Armstrong, a charming, gentle, humorous old man, over 
seventy years old. At the right, Suzette, a pretty young girl of 
seventeen, is sitting reading a newspaper. 

SUZETTE : — ("Reading head-linesy — "Reputation of Sky- 
scraper — Measures." (She yawns) — "Borough President gives to 
Board of Estimates the Report on Improvement." (Looking up) — 
Sounds dull, doesn't it? 

THE BISHOP :— No— but if you think so, try the next. 

(Reading) — "President in the West — yesterday's Speech at 
Cheyenne" — Is that the way you pronounce it? — "Crops, Race Sui- 
cide, and Tariff Reform." (Looking up.) It looks dreadfully long! 
Now, grandpa, speak the truth ! Wouldn't you really rather hear 
Caro Nome on the Victrola? 

THE BISHOP:— Well, my dear, perhaps I would. Where's 
Harry? He said, he said he wanted to speak to me after dinner 
about something important. 

SUZETTE:— Mf VictroIaJ— Oh, he just went out. He'll be 
back soon. (The record begins) There, grandpa! Isn't that a 
splendid record? 

THE BISUOF:— (Singing.) Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta ? Yes, a rather fine 
voice — who is it? 

SUZETTE :— Tetrazzini. 

THE BISHOP:— Ah, you should have heard Patti sing this 
at the Academy in '72 — I 

SUZETTE : — Now, grandpa, I can't help being young and any- 
way I'm sure that Melba and Destin and Farrar are every bit as 
good as your Cavillinis and Pattis and Crisis. And as for 
Caruso — ! 

THE BISHOP:— Ah, my dear! T have heard ^^ano'— (Hum- 
ming again) — Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Now — (He listens) — Ah, well, fair — 
fair! (With a sigh) After all, there's no one like Verdi. 

SUZETTE:— Grandpa? 

THE BISHOP:— Yes, dear' 

SUZETTE:— (Beguiling ly J— Which do you think would be 
more apt to melt you into a perfectly angelic, Bavarian-cream sort 
of mood — "O Parigi" from Traviata or the "Sextette" from Luciaf 



ROMANCE. 



THE BISHOP: — I'm melted already. I'm just rmining over 
the side of the dish. 

SUZETTE:— (Looking at him) Really? (Doubtfully)— No, I 
think you need one more. I want you very, very soft ! — (Picking 
out a record) — Oh, here's a brand-new Destinni ! That'll do it ! 

THE BISHOP:— What's the opera? 

SUZETTE: — (Adjusting the record) — Wait and see! (The ma- 
chine starts playing the accompaniment) — Do you remember it? 

THE BISHOP: — (Looking away) — Yes — yes. I remember — 
(The song begins — he rouses himself suddenly) Don't play that, 
Suzette. I know I'm foolish, but it makes me rather sad. 

SUZETTE:— (Stopping the record)—! thought you'd like it! 
It's from Mignon! 

THE BISHOP:— Yes. I know— but— /"/" a different tone)— 
Suppose we have a little Harry Lauder for a change? 

SUZETTE:— "I love a lassie?" 

THE BlSnOF:—(Reliered)—l think that would be very 
pleasant indeed. 

SUZETTE : — And you a Bishop of the Episcopal Church ! — 
(She puts on the Lauder record) — There! — (She starts on the 
machine). 

THE BISHOP: — (Leaning back in his chair with a chuckle) — 
Ta — ta — ta — ta-a — ta ! 

SUZETTE: — (Leaning on the arm of his chair) — Grandpa, I've 
got something to tell you. 

THE BISHOP— Yes? 

SUZETTE : — And I don't know whether or not you'll like it. 

THE BISHOP:— I like everything. It's my greatest fault! 

SUZETTE ■.—(Suddenly smiling)— Oh, oh ! What about Wag- 
ner ? 

THE BISHOP:— ("FzVw/j^^-Except Wagner. Yes, that's true 
— I can't stand Wagner ! 

SUZETTE: — Well, I doubt if you can stand this, either. 

THE BISHOP: — Suppose you give me a try! 

SUZETTE:— All right. (Turns off record.)— It's Harry. 
He's gone and done it. 

THE BISHOP:— What? 

SUZETTE: — (All in a rush). — I mean he hasn't really gone 
and done it, because he naturally can't do anything without her and 
she says she won't do a thing until you've said it's all right ; so 
that's why Harry wanted to speak to you tonight and you mustn't 
breathe one word about my telling you — you see, he's planning to 
do it all himself. I thought I'd better break it to j^ou gently. 
(Slight pause) — Don't you think I've been wise, grandpa, to break 
it to you gently? 

THE BISHOP:— You haven't broken it at all, my dear. I 
don't know what you're talking about. 

SUZETTE: — Why. grandpa, I've just told you! Harry's en- 
gaged to a girl named Lucille Anderson ! 

THE BISHOP:— Oh! I must be getting deaf. Dear me! And 
who is Lucille Anderson? 

SUZETTE :— Well, that's just it! Lucile's an— an artist! 

THE BISHOP:— You mean she paints? 



ROMANCE. 



SU2ETTE :— No, she doesn't exactly paint. You know therc'rc 
all kinds of artists, grandpa, and Lucile — well, Lucile's art is — 
er, a beautiful art, it's the art of — er — 

THE BISHOP:— Well? 

SUZETTE: — The art of — er — impersonation on the stage. — 
(A slight pause.) 

THE BISHOP:— An actress! 

SUZETTE :— Yes. (Nervously.) Well, it doesn't make any 
difference. Lots of nice girls are nowadays. 

THE BISHOP:— (To himself)— An actress—! 

SUZETTE: — (Bursting out) — But she's a perfect dear and her 
father was a well-known lawyer in Toronto, Canada, but he died 
and left her without a cent and her influence over Harry is very, 
very good and I'm sure you'll love her when you get to know her — 
I do, anyway, and I've only seen her four times — (Coaxingly) — 
Grandpa, remember — it's our own Harry ! 

THE BISHOP:— ('Dn/j'j-That's just what I am remembering, 
dear. He always did have very little sense! 

SUZETTE : — (Reproachfully) — Why, grandpa, he played quar- 
ter on the "varsity!" And you said yourself that took a lot of 
brains ! 

THE BISHOP:— r^m/Zm^^-Did I? Well this proves I was 
mistaken. 

SUZETTE:— Oh, dear! I— (Suddenly) Wait! I heard the 
front-door ! Here he is — ! (She slips off the arm of his chair) — 
Now remember ! Don't you get me into trouble ! 

THE BISHOP:— I won't! 

SUZETTE:— Promise? 

THE BISHOP: — Cross my heart and hope to die! — (Enter 
Harry from left. He is an attractive young man of about twenty- 
two or three — restless, young and impetuous. He wears a dinner- 
coat.)— 'V^eW ! We'd almost given you up ! 

HARRY:— (^/// at ease)— I had to make a call. Didn't Suzie 
tell you? 

THE BISHOP: — (Tranquilly) — Oh. yes, she said something 
or other. Well, what about our little chat? 

HARRY : — (Nervously) — Your — your rheumatism is not 
bothering you too much, is it, sir? Tomorrow would — 

THE BISHOP: — Oh no! Suzie's played all my aches away 
with Rigoletto and Harry Lauder. I'm fit as a fiddle, my boy, so 
put another log on the fire and go ahead. 

HARRY : — All right, sir. (He puts on the log, motioning the 
while for Susette to leave.) 

S\]Z^Ti:¥.:— (Shutting the Victrola)—There\—(To the 
Bishop) — I'll come in later and finish the P^*^i bcktfc- tou go to 
bed. (To Harry in a lower voice) — Don't worry. I've got feira 
going ! 

HARRY :— Thanks, Old Girl. (She goes out— left.) 
HARRY : — (Turning resolutely to the Bishop) — Grandfather, I 
have something I want to — 

THE BlSnOV ■.—(Gently)— U you go to my desk. Harry, and 
open the second drawer from the top on the left-hand side, I think 
you'll see a box of cigars — (Harry obeys.) — Thank you. Can you 
find them? — (Harry returns with the box) — Won't you have one? — 



ROMANCE. 



(Harry shakes his head) — I know they're not as good as yours, 
but I can't afford the very best brands. 

HARRY : — I don't feel like smoking now. Grandfather, I've 
come to you in order to — 

THE BISHOV -.—(Interrupting gently) Er— just one moment. 
I haven't any match ! 

HARRY:— Oh, Lord! Excuse mt\—(He lights the Bishop's 
cigar) — There ! Now I want to tell you what's on my mind, grand- 
father. It's been there for some time and I — I — 

THE BISHOP:— Yes? 

HARRY: — (Embarrassed) — I think I ought to — to get it off. 

THE BISHOP:— Well? 

HARRY : — You see — it's this way. — (Pause), 

THE BISHOP:— rMi/c?/3j;— What way? 

HARRY : — Hang it, I don't know how to put the thing, but — 
but — (Looking up and seeing the Bishop smiling at him) — Well, I'll 
be — ! You're on! You've been on all the time! 

THE BISHOP: — Your intuition is overwhelming, Harry, — but 
it's correct. As you say — I'm on. (Pause.) — 

HARRY : — (Wrathfully looking at door.) — I might have known 
no girl could keep a secret I 

THE BISHOP:— ('//a.y///^';— It's my fault! I wrung it out of 
her! I kicked her shins! I — I twisted her arms! 

HARRY: — (Disgusted) — And now you're making fun of me! 
Well — ! (He straightens up defiantly.) 

THE BISHOP : — (Suddenly tender) — I'm not making fun of 
you, Harry, 

HARRY : — (Uncomfortably) — I meant to tell you myself about 
Lucile. I didn't want anybody else butting in. 

THE BISHOP: — Of course — I know. You must love her a 
great deal ! 

HARRY -.—(Still a little sulkily)— Well I do. 

THE BISHOP:— And she's very pretty, isn't she? 

HARRY :— (Brightening)— Did Suzie tell you? 

THE BISHOP:— No— I just guessed— that's all. 

HARRY : — (Enthusiastically) — And she's awfully clever, too — 
acts like a streak — and she has just bunches of character! Why, 
when it comes down to it. she's ten times too good for me ! 

THE BISHOP :— (With a tender, sad little smile, looking far 
away) — Of course she is — of course — of course ! 

HARRY : — I met her at the Randall's — you know, that painter 
fellow — and now she's all alone in a rotten boarding-house on 10th 
Street, and she has no work and her family are all dead — and so 
I really think I ought to marry her right off. Now don't you 
agree with me?. (Pause) — Well! Don't you? 

THE BISHOP: — (Rousing himself with an effort) — I don't 
know, Harry. You see. you're so young — you're just beginning 
life, and you may change and grow, my dear boy, there may come 
a time when you'll need more than any little actress can ever give 
you — (Harry makes a movement). Oh, it's all right now, you 
love her — I know that ! But are you quite sure, Harry, that you'll 
always love her just the way you love her now and nothing* hid- 
den in the future — or in the past — can ever shake your faith and 
beat you down and break your heart? 

HARRY : — I don't know what you mean. 



ROMANCE. 



THE BISHOP:— You must be very, very sure, my boy — or 
else you're not fair to yourself — and what's worse — I'm afraid you're 
not fair to her. 

HARRY '.—(Bursting out)— Oh, what's the good of talking! I 
just knew it would be this way! There's absolutely no use trying 
to do things with my family — they're all alike — narrow, conven- 
tional, dry-as-dust! (Turning away suddenly) — If only dad and 
mummy were alive, they'd understand ! 

THE BISHOP:— r/Zwr/y— Don't say things like that, Harry! 
You know I've done my best for Suzette and you. 

HARRY :— (Penitent)— Oh, I didn't mean that, grandpa. But 
you see, it's a long time now since you've been young and I think 
it's sort of hard for you to remember back and — sympathise with a 
fellow I (Going on quickly) — Oh, I know you're awfully wise and 
you can see clear through people and understand *em that way, but 
this is different — I don't believe you ever felt the way I'm feeling 
now — and so — (Gulping) — Oh, well, there's no use going on. Thanks 
lor trying, grandpa — I won't keep you up any longer ! (He is at 
the door ready to leave.) 

THE BISHOP:— Where are you going? 

HARRY: — (A trifle defiantly) — I'm going to get married! 

THE BISHOP:— To-night? 

HARRY : — Yes, I got the license this afternoon. (Slight 
pause.) 

THE BISHOP:— Come in, Harry, and shut the door. 

HARRY -.—(Doing so)— What do you want? 

THE BISHOP: — You said I couldn't remember back and 
realize how one felt when one was young — Well, I do remember. 
Because no matter how old one grows, Harry, there always are 
some things that keep a little youth still burning in one's heart. 

HARRY : — I didn't mean to hurt, grandpa. 

THE BISHOP: — You didn't my dear boy. But you've madt 
me think of something that I'd supposed I'd forgot — ten — it's so 
long ago since it came up in my mind. It's something I never 
told to anyone before — I used to think I never would. Oh, well — 
times change, and I didn't realize then I was to have a grandson 
just like you. I wonder, Harry, if you'll have time to wait and 
hear about it? 

HARRY:— (Distrustfully)— U you think it's something that's 
going to change my mind about Lucile, you might as well stop 
right here ! (As' the Bishop rises with difficulty and goes slowly 
over to the desk) — What is it, grandpa? Can't l get it? 

THE BISHOR :—( Suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath)— 
A-ah ! 

HARRY: — (Sympathetically) — Your rheumatism, sir? 

THE BISHOP: — (With a smile) — Don't mention rheumatism 
now, my boy. (He stands for a moment above the desk and shuts 
his eyes) — I'm only twenty-eight years old! (Taking a bunch of 
keys from his pocket, he unlocks a lower drawer and, after some 
fumbling comes up with a small box of mahogany which he lays 
on the desk before him.) — Do you know what's in this little box' 

HARRY:— No. sir. What? 

THE BISHOP -.—(With a radiant smile)— Romance, my boy, 
the perfume of romance! 

HARRY: — How — how do you mean, sir? (Music begins.) 



ROMANCE. 



THE BISHOP:— Look! (He opens the box and tenderly takes 
out a little whisp of lace.) 

HARRY .—Mw^fi?^— What is it, grandpa? A handkerchief? 

THE mSnOV:— (Nodding)— A handkerchief. (He undoes it 
and discloses a feiv old flowers) — White violets — (He sniffs them, 
then smiles and shakes his head) — They're dried and yellow now — 
their sweetness is all gone — I'm an old man, Harry — but somehow 
— why, it seems like yesterday — 

HARRY :—(Wonderingly)— What, sir? 

THE BISHOP: — (Turning out the desk-lamp, and crossing to 
his chair again holding the flowers and handkerchief very carefully 
in his hands) — Ah, that's what I'm going to tell you now ! Sit 
down, my boy — (As Harry sits on the floor by his feet, looking up 
at himJ — Are you comfortable there? That's right! Well, it was 
over forty years ago — forty years — dear me, how the time flies ! and 
I was the young Rector of St. Giles, you know. That was before 
I married your grandmother — God bless her! Although I'd known 
her nearly all my life. Well, Harry, one night — in November, it 
was — I went to an evening party at Old Cornelius Van Tuyl's house 
and — 

(Harry is seated on the floor, looking up into the Bishop's face. 
And, as he speaks, there is music and the whole scene melts into 
the dark. The music swells, growing sweeter and louder, then falls 
and dies away, as the lights come softly up, revealing the stage 
set for Act I.) 



10 ROMANCE. 



Act 1 

SCENE : 

Evening reception at Mr. Cornelius Van Tuyrs house, about 
1867. It is a small balcony-room, overlooking drawing-rooms belov^'. 
Stairs in centre coming up from floor below, bteps at each side of 
well leading to semi-circular gallery at back, overlooking rooms 
below. In fore-ground at right a couch turned slightly to face 
audience. At its head a small marble-topped table. At left of 
foreground, a tete-a-tete chair. Seat running along balustrade which 
encircles staircase well. Lamps in foreground give a mellow light 
which contrasts with the brilliance of the lighting in the rooms 
below. 

As the lights go up there is the subdued sound of voices and 
laughter from the rooms below, the faint sound of a distant orches- 
tra playing a quaint polka. There are several people on the stage. 
At right of gallery at back stand two men-about-town. looking out 
over the rooms below. At centre of this gallery are a young man 
and girl, talking, laughing and flirting. Another young man and 
a girl — she on his arm — are coming down the steps at left, chatting 
gaily. They turn and descend the main staircase. Mrs. Rutherford. 
a rather pretty, affected woman — is sitting on the couch at right. 
Besides her is Miss Susan Van Tuyl, a sensible, healthy, attractive 
young woman of thirty-two or three, dressed simply and charmingly 
in white. They are listening to Mr. Harry Putnam, an elderly 
beau of the period, who stands twirling his moustache, his feet 
crossed, ogling and talking to them. Mrs. Frothingham, a buxom, 
florid dowager, very richly and fussily dressed, sits on the tete-a-tete 
^t left with her daughter, a pretty young girl of eighteen. 

THE YOUNG MAN : — (To young girl on his arm, as they come 
down — left — from gallery) — A very brilliant party — don't you think? 

THE GIRL : — Oh, quite the most elegant affair of the winter ! 
— (They turn to the stairs.) 

THE YOUNG MAN : — (To another young man just coming 
up) — Oh. Frank — is the dancing salon crowded? 

THE SECOND YOUNG MAN :— Not just now. They're be- 
ginning to serve supper. 

THE FIRST YOUNG MAN :— ^To the ^/r/;— Splendid I— 
(Thev go downstairs.) 

THE SECOND YOUNG ^lAN -.—(To Mrs. Frothingham, with 
a bow) — Mrs. Frothingham. niav I have the honor of this Polka? 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— You droll wretch— don't you know 
my dancing days are over? 

THE YOUNG U\^:—(To the girl)— Miss Frothingham, 
then, mav be persuaded to atone for — 

MISS VROTUINGUAM:— (Rising)— Oi course I may! I 
love the polka ! — (They turn tozcards the stairs.) 

MRS. FROTUl^GUAM:— (Rising)— Mv dearest Susan- 
Agatha — forgive me if I come and talk to you I 

(She joins the group at couch — right.) — 

(Meanwhile the two men-about-tozvn are heard to speak from 
gallery, ivhere they are looking at crozvd below.) — 



ROMANCE. 11 



THE FIRST MAN :— Who's that woman with the diamonds- 
down there by the door? I thought at first it might be Cavallini. 

THE SECOND MAN -.—(Turning away)—l<lo, Cavallini's sing- 
ing that new opera — what's it's name? 

FIRST MAN:— "Mignon?" 

SECOND MAN :— "Mignon"- of course! She's still at the 
Academy — she won't be here till twelve. 

FIRST MAN: — Shall we have supper now or shall we wait? 

SECOND MAN : — Now, my dear chap, now ! This is one of 
the few houses where Blue Seal Johannisberger flows like water ! 

FIRST MAN:— r^^ the stairs)— And the '48 claret! I'd for- 
gotten that — (They disappear below, talking) — 

(A burst of laughter from the girl at back of gallery.) 

THE GIRL: — You mustn't talk to me that way any more! 
Now give me your arm and take me down stairs to mamma — 

HER PARTNER: — Do you know you have the same effect on 
me as a glass of Champagne ! 

THE GIRL:— r^f stairs)— Oi course, I don't know anything 
about that! 

HER PARTNER:— No. of course not. It doesn't last long- 
still — while it lasts — (They disappear^ talking and laughing.) 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM:— r^^ couch— right)— Yon can say 
what you please, Miss Van Tuyl, his nose is not Grecian ! 

SUSAN : — (Very polite) — Dear Mrs. Frothingham, are noses 
your only standard? 

MRS. RUTHERFORD :—r5/m^/;/^ her head)— Ah, well— his 
grandfather on his mother's side came of very doubtful stock ! An 
Irish peasant, I believe — he landed sometime about 1805. 

SUSAN : — Surely, Mrs. Rutherford, your memory doesn't take 
you quite as far back as all that? 

PUTNAM : — And to think we are condemned to listen to his 
sermons! Why, last Sunday I woke up just in time to catch the 
young puppv making scurrilous allusions to me — / 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— Dear me, I regret exceedingly that 
my neuralgia kept me from attending church! What did he — ? 

SUSAN : — He said he didn't doubt that several of our elderly 
beaux would soon be making Heaven fashionable and organizing 
society among the more exclusive angels ! — 

(Tom is seen leisurely coming upstairs. He is about twenty- 
eight, handsome, positive and determined. He is dressed very 
simply and a little shabbily. He has a very hearty, genial quality, 
but no humor.) 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— Abominable ! 

MRS. RUTHERFORD :— Blasphemous, I call it! 

PUTNAM :— Hardly the remark of a gentleman ! 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— But he's not a gentleman! 

PUTNAM : — He dresses like a pen-wiper ! 

MRS. RUTHERFORD :— He spends all his spare time with 
working men ! 

PUTNAM : — (To SusauJ — My dear young lady, why your ex- 
cellent uncle ever gave him the church is more than I shall ever 
understand ! 

SUSAN : — Because uncle knows he's the coming man — that's 
why! Look what he's done here in just these two years! Hasn't 
he built up the congregation from nothing at all to the third biggest 



12 ROiMANCE. 



in New York. Hasn't he started the athletic club for the young 
men and the cooking school for the girls? Hasn't he founded our 
parish school for poor children — and got people to donate a play- 
ground — and a circulating librar}- — and a big hall for free lectures 
and musical entertainments? Isn't he just as much at home and 
just as much loved down in a Bowery saloon as he is here in Fifth 
Avenue drawing-room? Isn't he — 

PUTNAM : — (Interrupting as he sees Torn) — I — er — I quite 
agree with you, Miss Van Tuyl ! 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM:— r^/jo seeing Tom)— W try praise- 
worthy, I'm sure ! 

MRS. RUTHERFORD:— Quite remarkable, indeed! 

SUSAN : — (Bezvildered) — But — (Suddenly turned and seeing 
Torn) — Oh, I seel (To Tom) — We're talking about you, Tom! 

TOM : — I heard. Thank you, Susan. 

MRS. RUTHERFORD:— f/?u/»^;— We were all saying the 
most flattering things — 

MRS. FROTHIXGHAM:— ri?/.y/n^;— Dear Dr. Armstrong, I— 
I wonder your ears weren't burning — 

PUTNAM: — (Laughing nervously) — By Jove, yes — so do I! 

TOM : — Don't let me drive you away. 

MRS. FROTHINGHAAI :— Er— I must look after my Mabel. 

PUTNAM : — And I was on the point of offering Mrs. Ruther- 
ford some supper. 

MRS. RUTHERFORD:— rro Susan)— An revoir. my dear— 
good-night, Dr. Armstrong! 

MRS. FROTHINGHAM :— Good-night— good-night ! 

PUTNAM: — (Boimng) — Your servant! (The three go doicn- 
s fairs.) 

SUSAN : — (After them) — Don't go before Madame Cavallini 
comes — she's promised to sing for us and you know what that 
means! Au revoir — au revoir! (Turning to Tom) — Cats! Two 
tabbies and one old torn! Did you hear what they were saying? 

TOM: — Just a little. What does it matter? They're not the 
people that really count! 

SUSAN: — I know. But I just can't bear their criticising you! 
(Looking at him) — Oh. Tom ! You've got on your oldest clothes. 
Why couldn't you have stopped to dress? 

TOM : — Well, I was going to, honest I was. But this is my 
night at the athletic club and about ten o'clock, just as I'd taken 
on the heavy weight of the ward, little Jimmy Baxter came run- 
ning in and said young Sullivan was drunk and killing his wife, so 
would I please step over? (Xoticing her glance) — What are you 
looking at? 

SUSAN:— Y^our hair! 

TOM: — (Feeling it) — Is it sticking up behind? 

SUSAN : — Just one lock — on the left. (Coming up to him) — 
Bend over! (He does so and she smoothes it down, as he goes 
on talking.) 

TOAI : — (Goijig on all the time) — And I found Sullivan in a 
fighting mood and rather difficult to manage and in the middle of 
it all, if Mrs. Sullivan didn't go and have another baby! 

SUSAN : — (Trying to take out a spot from his lapel zvith her 
handkerchief.) Poor dear! I'll go round to-morrow and see how 
she's doing. (Orchestra heard hcloiv.) 



ROMANCE. 13 



A MAN'S VOICE: — (Coming upstairs) — I say! 

SUSAN : — (Looking over balustrade) — Oh, it's Mr. Living- 
stone ! (Enter Fred Livingstone, a dandified young man of about 
thirty.) 

FRED : — (Who is carrying a plate in each hand) — There, Miss 
Van Tuyl ! You owe that dab of mayonnaise to no less a person 
than the Golden Nightingale ! (To Tom) — Hello, Tom — how goes 
it? 

SUSAN:— Why, Mr. Livingstone! 

FRED : — It's a fact. I never would have got it if it hadn't 
been for her. Why, all the literary and artistic talent in New 
York was fighting like a band of demons round the supper-table 
when, thank the Lord ! the band struck up and someone said that 
Cavallini had arrived ! 

SUSAN :— (Smiling)— I see! 

FRED : — Two seconds — and there wasn't a soul in the dining- 
room but me. Why, even the caterer's men were standing up on 
chairs to catch a glimpse of the divinity! 

SUSAN: — I really must go down and greet her! 

TOM : — If vou see your uncle, Susan, tell him where I am. 

SUSAN:— Very well. (To Fred)— Mr. Livingstone? 

FRED : — Er — will you excuse me, Miss Van Tuyl ? I want to 
have a word or two with Tom here. 

SUSAN : — Of course. Au revoir. (She goes downstairs.) 

FRED : — (Quivering) — Well ! This is the last time I bring 
my wife to this house ! 

TOM ■.—(Amazed)— What— f 

FRED : — Whv, the man must be out of his head ! 

TOM:— W^ho? 

FRED:— Van Tuyl! 

TOM:— What on earth's he done? 

FRED: — (Staring at him) — Good Lord, man, don't you realize 
who's downstairs? Don't you know who's making a tour of the 
rooms on his arm ? Don't you know who he's introducing to every 
respectable woman that's been fool enough to come here tonight — 

TOM:— (Interrupting)— No, I don't— who? 

FRED : — (Impressively) — The — Cavallini ! 

TOM: — (Puaaled) — Oh, you mean that foreign opera singer? 
Well, what of it? 

FRED: — What of it? She's his mistress. 

TOM: — (Controlling himself with difficulty) — What? 

FRED : — I wouldn't have mentioned it if he hadn't brought her 
here tonight ! I believe in letting a man's private affairs strictly 
alone, but gad! I expect him in return to show a little decency! 

TOM : — (Clenching his hands) — I see. 

FRED : — And look here, Tom, as long as you're his rector and 
all that, I think you ought to speak to him about it — haul him over 
the coals and haul him jolly hard. 

TOM : — (Holding himself in) — And this is all you wanted to 
sav to me? 

FRED :— Yes. 

TOM : — (Coming close to him) — Then / have one or two things 
to sav to you. And I'll just begin by telling you what you are — 
and that's a miserable, gossiping old woman ! 

FRED:— rr^AvH fl^ary^^- Wait— hold on! 



14 ROMANCE. 



TOM : — (Continuing) — A pitiful fool who hears a dirty story 
and can't wait until he's passed it on! Why, you apology for the 
male sex, do you know what you're doing? You're a guest in a 
gentleman's house — you've eaten his food and soused yourself in 
his wine and shaken him by the hand and now you're turning 
round and circulating dirty lies behind his back — 

FRED: — (Interrupting) — They're not lies! He lived with her 
for years — she has a villa on the Riviera that Van Tuyl gave her — 
it's called Milletleurs — Jack Morris saw them there together — 

TOM:— (Thundering)— Bq still! 

FRED: — (Angrily, as he gets behind the sofa and talks over 
it) — I won't be still ! Why, all the fellows know what Rita Cavillini 
is — except yourself, and you're a clergyman ! Ask Guvvy Fisk — he 
knew the French musician chap that found her singing under hotel 
windows — years ago — in Venice. And Guvvy knows just when she 
kicked him out and went off with that Russian grand-duke and lived 
with him in Petersburg, until the Prince de Joinville set her up 
in Paris ! Why, she's notorious all over Europe — she's ruined whole 
families — run through fortune after fortune — it was outside her 
door that that young English poet shot himself — the Emperor bor- 
rowed money from the Rothschilds just to buy her diamonds — the 
King of Naples gave her — 

TOM : — (Breaking in) — Stop it, Livingstone ! 

FRED : — (Going right on) — And as for Van Tuyl, well, every- 
body knows what he's been like — 

TOM : — (Interrupting and making for him) — You little cur 
you — (Just here Van Tuyl comes up from domnstairs. He is a 
man of about fifty, big, deep-voiced and strong — a powerful per- 
sonality. His manner is genial and full of wise, quiet humor — 
but he suggests the possibility of volcanic emotions lying beneath. 
He is dressed soberly, but beautifully and with great care.) 

VAN TUYl.:— (Quietly)— \Nt\\ my young friends! What's 
the matter ? 

FRED: — (Politely) — Oh, nothing! Tom and I were arguing — 
that's all. (He looks at his watch.) Good gracious — twelve o'clock ! 
You haven't seen my wife, sir? — 

VAN TUYL:— But you're not going? Why, Mme. Cavillini's 
going to sing! 

FRED: — (Simply) — Fd rather my wife heard Mme. Cavillini 
across the footlights — a touch of prejudice, I suppose — don't let it 
bother you — good-night! (He bows, smiles, and goes out — back.) 

TOM : — (Simply and a little shyly) — Fd have come downstairs 
to find you, sir, but Fm not dressed, as you see — and I thought you 
mighten't like it. 

VAN TUYL : — (Heartily) — Nonsense, my boy ! I think you're 
very good to come at all. I don't remember if you're interested 
in terra-cottas, Tom, but if you are — 

(He is at the mantel, lifting one of the vases lovingly) — Here's 
something that came in last week. It's a lekythos of the time of 
Pericles. Look at the exquisite grace and freshness of those 
figures ! And the hand that made them has been dust two thousand 
years ! 

TOM -.—(Hastily)— Er — very pretty— very pretty indeed. 

VAN TUYL:— (He puts back the vase with a sigh)— But I 
think you care more for pictures than for terra-cottas, don't vou? 



ROMANCE. 15 



Come and look at the new Millet. I've got it in my room where 
I can — 

TOM :—('Fi>w/3';— Thanks, sir, but I'd rather stay here. I 
want to — to talk to you. (Awkwardly) — I don't quite know how 
to begin, sir, as it's a rather important — and at the same time a 
rather— a rather delicate matter, but — hut— (Suddenly) — Fm not 
by any chance keeping you from your guests? 

VAN TUYL:— Tom. 

TOM:— Yes. sir? 

VAN TUYh:— (Putting his hand on Tom's arm)— It's— it's 
about Susan, isn't it? 

TOM:— Yes. but— 

VAN TUYL:— Then it's all right. My boy, I'm as glad as 
can be ! 

TOM:— (Pus:;led)— But what's all right? I'm afraid sir, I 
don't follow you. 

VAN TUYL: — Why, aren't you asking me if — (He looks at 
him sharply.) 

TOM : — I'm sorry, sir, but it's advice I wish to offer you. 

VAN TUYL:— Advice— ? 

TOM : — Yes, I regret it, but it's my duty. 

VAN TUYL:— In that case, pray go on. (He sits).— Won't 
you sit down? 

TOM : — No. thanks. (Ingenuously.) — Mr. Van Tuyl, I suppose 
some people would say that after all you'd done for St. Giles and 
me. it wasn't in my place to suggest anything — 

VAN TUYL : — Nonsense, Tom. Do you know you're getting 
to look more like your dear mother every day? 

TOM: — No, am I? (Resuming.) — But after all, I'm your rector 
and I feel I've got to — to — 

VAN TUYL : — Quite right, my boy, I respect your feelings. 
Well? 

TOM : — Do you know, Mr. Van Tuyl, that there's a woman 
downstairs whose reputation is — 

VAN TUYL :—('Ca/m/3»;— Whoever she is, Tom, she's one of 
my guests. 

TOM : — (Persisting) — But she's a woman whose — immoralities 
are notorious — 

VAN TUYl.:— (Sternly)— Tom\ 

TOM : — Excuse me, sir. I'm speaking as the rector of St. 
Giles ! 

VAN TUYl. ■.—(Bowing his head)— Go on. 

TOM : — (Unconsciously assuming his pulpit manners) — A type 
that disgraces even the effete and vice-worn civilizations, but from 
which — thank God! — our country has been comparatively free! 

VAN i:VY'L:—(Politely)—Ah—l 

TOM : — (Quickly) — We have our sins, sir — I know them well. 
But vice till now was forced to crawl her way through poverty 
and darkness, or bask in the false light of an abandoned stage! 
She never dared to rear her slimy head and look into our homes — 
nay, touch the white hands of our wives and daughters I 

VAN TVYl.:— (Smoking)— And nieces? 

TOM : — (Hastily) — And nieces. (Resuming) — And is it time, 
now after all these years of honest decency to open wide our 



16 ROMANCE. 



doors to a Du Barry? To welcome Messalina to our hospitable 
board ? 

VAN Tl]YL:—(2yiildly)—lt isn't Sunday, Tom. 

TOM :— I ask you, sir, as friend and clergj^man, is it fair, is it 
wise, is it right— th3.t your pure threshold should be crossed by 
Mme. Cavallini? (Pause.) 

VAN TUYL:— How old are you, Tom? 

TOM:— (^Lo^/j^/yj— Er— tw^enty-eight. 

VAN TIJYL ■.—(IVith a wistful smile)— Ui^s a simple thing 
when you're twenty-eight. 

TOM:— (Loftily)— U one has standards— yes. 

VAN TUYL:— Standards? 

TOM :— Of right and wrong. I mean. 

VAN TUYL:— Oh, ves,— I had those standards once. 

TOM:— (ShockedJ— Once, sir? 

VAN TUYL:— And then one day I got 'em all mixed up— and 
the right seemed wrong and the wrong seemed right, and I just 
didn't know where I was at. 

TOM:— Oh, come, sir! 

VAN TUYL:— And now I'm fifty-one years old, my boy, and— 
(With a chuckle)— weW, I'm dashed if I ever got 'em straight 



again 



TOM : — (Distressed)— Oh, sir, don't talk that way ! 

VAN TUYL:— (Soberly)— l\e learnt a few things, though- 
stray spars I've clung to in all this storm and ocean — One's how 
to value people that are good— that's why you're rector of St. 
Giles, mv boy — and another's how to pity people that ar — 

TOM :— Bad. 

VAN TUYL : — No, not bad, but there're some poor devils who 
find it harder to be good than you. that's all. 

TOM : — (Impulsively) — Oh, what a fool I've been ! I might 
have known there wasn't a word of truth in what that puppy said. 

VAN TUYL:— What puppy? 

TOM : — A young he-gossip, sir, who reeled off lies about this 
woman. And I was ass enough to believe him, and come to you 
and talk like a— like a— like a confounded prig! I wonder you 
don't throw me out of the house! 

VAN TUYL: — (With a twinkle) — You're my rector, Tom, 

TOM: — Do you think you forgive me, sir? (Just here the 
hand downstairs begins a beguiling Straus waits.) 

VAN TUYL : — (Rising) — There's nothing to forgive, my boy. 
And now run downstairs and ask Susan for some supper. 

TOM:— But, I'm not dressed — 

VAN TUYL : — Oh, nonsense ! But if you'd rather, go into the 
library. She'll bring it up to you. 

(Meanwhile, there is heard down the staircase the sound of 
men's voices, high and eager, and over and above them, a woman's 
laughter. This comes nearer and nearer. 
' TOM :— But I'm not— 

VAN TUYL:— (Clapping him on the shoulder)— Don't tell me 
you're not hungry! You're twenty-eight 3'^ears old — and when a 
young man's twenty-eight — hello! Who's this? 

(He turns and glances at back, as the sound of the voices and 
laughter groivs nearer.) 



ROMANCE. 17 



A WOMAN'S VOICE:— (Just off, rising above the others.)— 
Go 'vay — go 'vay — you mus' not come vit' me — no — no — you are 
naught-tee — you are mos' 'orr-r-rible naught-tee men I I evair see — 
(She comes on ivith the group of young dandies who have 
accompanied her. She stands a moment at the top of the stair- 
way at back, laughing and talking, always facing in the direction 
whence she came, — away from Tom and Fan Tuyl. She is a 
bewitching, brilliant little foreign creature — beautiful in a dark, 
Italian way, she is uiarvellously dressed in voluminous gauze and 
her dress is trimmed with tiny roses. Her black hair hangs in curls 
on either side of her face and three long, soft curls hang down her 
low-cut back. On her head is a wreath of little roses. She wears 
long diamond earrings, a riviere of diamonds is about her* neck, 
diamonds gleam on her corsage, her wrists and hands. She carries 
a fan and bouquet in a sihrer filagree holder. She speaks in a soft 
Italian voice, with quick bird-like gestures. She seems Jierself a 
good deal like an exquisite, gleaming little humming bird.) 

ONE OF THE YOUNG MEN :— But it's iny waltz ! 

ANOTHER: — Don't listen to him, madame, you know you 
promised me to — 

A THIRD: — (Interrupting) — Nonsense, Willie — my name's on 
her card ! 

THE FIRST:— It's no such thing. 

THE SECOND:— I appeal to her! 

THE THIRD :— Madame,— 

RITA : — (Interrupting) — Oh — ! Vhy you makesuch a beeg, 
beeg noise? 

THE FIRST YOUNG MA-N -.—(Frankly)— Yon'r^ driving us 
crazy — can't you understand? 

RITA:— (Mock serious)— \I\\d.\., Me—? Poor, leetle me? You 
beeg bad boy, you make of me — 'ow you say? — vone seelly joke! 

THE CHORUS :— "We don't !" "It's true !" "Of course it is !" 

RITA: — (Laughing) — Go make de love to dose be-e-autiful 
Amer-r-ican ladies wid de long nose an' de neck full of leetle 
bones — ! 

ONE OF THE YOUNG MEN :— But I want to make love 
to you! 

ANOTHER:— And so do I ! 

A THIRD:— I do, too. 

THE OTHERS :— And I and I ! 

RITA: — Ouf ! You cannot all make de love to me — so look! 
I tell you — (They all gather nearer.) 

ONE OF THEM:— What? 

ANOTHER :— Tell us! 

RITA : — (Triumphantly) — You shall not any of you make de 
love to me ! 

CYLORUS:— (Disappointed)— ''Oh, m2id2imt\" "Please!" "You 
must!" etc. 

RITA:— No— no! I stay here vid Meestaire Van Tuyl. 

CHORUS:— "Oh. don't!" "What a shame!" "Please come 
downstairs !" etc, 

RITA : — But listen now ! Vich vone of you, 'em catch dis 
peenk camellia look — 'e drive me 'ome ! 

(She holds up the flower.) 



18 ROMANCE. 



THE AlEX : — (Surging forward to snatch) — "Give me it!" 
"Oh, madame!" "Get out of the way!" "It's mine!" 

RITA : — (Laughing and tossing it over the balustrade) — Eet is 
all gone — so run — run qvick ! Oh, 'e has fallen himself down — 
dat leetle meestaire ! Povrino! 

(Excitedly, looking over balustrade) — Oh — ! Oh — ! You vill 
be hur-r-rted — (Pointing) — Oh, Dio Guardi — guardi! — (Clapping 
her hands and leaning over the balustrade) — All r-r-right — all 
r-r-right — 30U meestaire vid de beeg moustache — Bene! capita! You 
take me 'ome ! — (She kisses her hand and turns away, still laugh- 
ing) — Dey are so fr-r-rightful-ee funn-ee, dose — (She suddenly 
sees Tom, who has been standing quite still staring at her all the 
time. She stops. The words die away from her lips. She looks 
at him. An instant's pause.) 

TOM : — (Indistinctly, as he tears his gaze away from her) — 
I — I beg your pardon. (He passes her quickly, his head down, and 
goes downstairs) — (She turns and follows him with her eyes.) 

RITA: — (Very simply, still looking after him) — Please, who is 
dat young man? 

VAN TUYL : — Tom Armstrong. He's a clergyman. 

RITA : — (Vaguely) — Cler-gee-man? 

VAN TUYL :— Abbe— priest— you know. 

RITA: — (Almost to herself)— Ah— \ Den it vas dat— 

VAN TUYL:— What? 

RITA : — (Turning away) — I dunno. Jost somet'ing in his 
eyes— 

VAN TUYL: — I don't suppose he'd ever seen anything like 
you in all his life. 

RITA : — (Impishly) — No ? My Lor-rd, 'ow very sad I Glancing 
again downstairs — this time imth a certain calinerie) — an' he vas 
'an'some, too ! 

(Van Tuyl chuckles. She hears him, turns, catches his eye and 
they laugh together.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Coming up, still laughing, and taking her in 
his arms) — You little monkey you ! 

RITA : — (Softly, her eyes closed, a smile of triumph on her 
lips) — De beeg Amer-r-rican, 'e like 'is leetle fren' tonight — 
ye-ss? 

VAN TVYl^:— (Smiling)— I don't think he could help it if he 
tried ! 

R^TA:— (Softly)— 'Dtn please why don' 'e keese 'er? 

VAN TUYL: — (Laughing and kissing her) — There! 

RITA : — (Drawing herself azvay suddenly) — My Lor-rrd, I 
have forget some-t'ing! 

VAN TUYL :— (Following her)— Come here. 

RITA : — I have forget dat I am oh, mos' f r-r-rightfull-ee 
angr-ee ! 

VAN TUYL:— Not with me? 

RITA ■.—Si—si! 

VAN TUYL:— But whv? What have I done? 

RITA :— (Briefly)— You know. 

VAN TUYL:— My dear, I don't! 

RITA : — (Sitting — right) — Ssh ! You mus' not say t'ings like 
dat — dey are not tr-r-rue ! You 'ave tr-r-reat me ver' bad tonight 
— yes, you 'ave tr-r-reat me qvite, qvite — on-spikable ! 



ROMANCE. 19 



VAN TUVL:— Why, I've invited you to my house, I've intro- 
duced to my friends — I've entertained you before all the world — 
and isn't that exactly what you wanted? 

RITA : — You ask me to your soiree — dat is tr-r-rue — but you 
ask me as an ar-r-rtiste, not as a femme dii monde! 
VAN TUYL :— That isn't so ! 

RITA: — (Like a flash) — Ah, no? Den please vhy you ask de 
Oder singer-r-rs, too? 

VAN TUYL:— Now, Rita, listen— 

RITA : — I vill not leesten ! You t'ink I am a leetle — vhat you 
say? — donnacia — une p'tite grisette — 

VAN TUYL: — My dear, you know I don't think anything of 
the sort — 

RITA : — An' eet is not tonight a'lone — oh, no ! Eet is two — 
t'ree mont's — all de time since tir-r-rst I come to your mos' ver' 
diz-a-agree-a-ble count-ree ! (With a smile) — xA.-ah ! Eet was not 
like dis at Millefleurs — I vas not dere a singer-r-r from de opera 
— at Millefleurs I vas a qveen ! 

VAN TUYL:— Millefleurs— ! Our Palace of a Thousand 
Flowers ! 

RITA : — (Caressingly) — Do you r-r-remember de night I sing 
to you de Schubert serenade — vhen you valk up an' down below 
de vindow — ye'es ? An' all de r-r-roses in de vor-r-rld, dey blos- 
som in de moonlight? Dere vas no vind — de sea vas qvite, qvite 
steell — an' you valk up an' down — up an' down — an' alvays I sing 
to you — an' sing — an' sing — an' de vind an' de sea an' de beeg gol* 
moon — dev all of dem leesten to me I 

VAN i:\JYl.:— (Rousing himself)— Thsit was Millefleurs. The 
roses there had brought me back my youth. — (With a sigh.) — I 
came home, and I lost it, dear. I'll never find it again ! 
RITA : — Vhat you mean — please ? 

VAN TUYL:— I'm fifty-one years old. (She instinctively 
draws away from him a little) — That frightens you? 
RITA:— Ah, no, but— 

VAN TUYL:— (GentlyJ— I know how— you must feel. (Pause 
—Rita. 

RITA:— Veil? 

VAN TUYL : — Rita, suppose we finish our — our friendship — 
end it here tonight. 

RITA:— To night—? 

VAN TUYL : — Give me your hand. There ! Now we can 
talk ! I'm fond of you, dear — I always shall be that — but already 
I'm beginning to disappoint you. And I'm afraid I'll do' it more 
and more as time goes on. (Slight pause.) — Look at my hair! 
There wasn't any gray in it last year — at Millefleurs ! But now — 
and next year there'll be more! And I've began to be a little 
deaf and fall asleep in chairs and dream about tomorrow's dinner. 
My rheumatism, too, came back last week — (She winces and draws 
away her hand) — Don't blame me, dear — I can't help getting old. 
RITA:— (Nervously)— Don't— don't talk dat vay! 
VAN TUYL : — (Quickly) — God knows I'm not complaining ! 
I've lived my life — and it's been very sweet ! I've done some work, 
and done it pretty well, and then I've found time to enjoy a great 
many of the beautiful things that fill this beautiful world! 
(Politely) — Among them, my dear, I count your voice — and you! 



20 ROMANCE. 



(Resuming) — And yet the fact remains I've lived my life, I'm in 
the twilight years — oh ! They're golden yet, but that won't last, 
and they'll grow deep and dim until the last tinge of the sunset's 
gone and night comes — and it's time to sleep. (With a change of 
tone) — But you — Good Lord, your life has just begun! Why, the 
dew's still on the grass — it's sparkling brighter than your brightest 
diamonds! (He touches the ornaments) — You wear the morning 
like a wreath upon your hair — don't lose all that, my dear, — don't 
waste your springtime on a stupid fellow, fifty-one years old ! 
(Pause.) 

RITA : — (Coldly) — All r-r-right. (She turns aivay whistling.) 

VAN TVYL:— (Watching)— VJhsit's the matter? 

RITA: — Vone more — 'ow you say? — frien'sheep feenished — ! 
(In a hard voice) — Vone more ! — (With a careless gesture) — Oh, 
che m' importa — ce ne sono altri! — (She yawns ostentatiously and 
sniffs her bouquet.) 

VAN TVYl.:— (Looking at her keenly)— ^\W^ 

RITA :— Veil— Meestaire Van Tuyl? 

VAN TUYL: — (Simply) — Haven't you ever — loved someone? 

RITA: — 'Ow you talk? 'Ave I not love you two — t'ree 
year-r-rs ? 

VAN T\]\l^:— (Always very gently)— I don't mean that.— 
Isn't there someone whose memory is dear and — sort of holy — like 
an altar-candle, burning in your heart? 

RITA:— (In a hard voice)— No. 

VAN TUYL : — Think back — way back. Didn't someone ever 
make you feel so tender that you didn't know whether to laugh 
or cry at the thought of him? Wasn't there ever someone you 
wanted to help so much that it^t hurt you, like a living pain? 
Wasn't there someone who — 

RITA: — (Rising suddenly) — Basta ! Basta — ! Stop eet — don' 
— don' — (A little pause. She recovers herself) — 'ave you felt — 
like dat? 

VAN TUYL :— (Nodding)— Yes. 

RITA:— Who was she? 

VAN TUYL: — (Simply) — Just a girl. Not wonderful or beau- 
tiful or gifted — and vet — she meant the world to me. 

RITA:— Vhat 'appened? 

VAN TUYL :— She died before I ever told her that I loved her. 
(Pause.) 

RITA : — (Not looking at him) — Eet vas a good t'ing — dat she 
die so soon. 

VAN TUYL:— What? 

RITA : — Sometime I vish dat 1 had died before — I ever-r 'ear-rd 
dose vor-r-rds — "I lo-ove you." 

VAN TUYL:— What do you mean? 

RITA: — (Ironically) — I never-r- tol' you of my fir-rst so bee- 
autiful r-romance? No — ? Veil, I do not often t'ink eet — eet 
make me feel — not nize. (Pause.) — Eet vas in Venice. I vas jest 
seexteen years ol' — I play de guitar wide de serenata — (With a 
sigh) — Ah Madonna! Come sembra lontano! 

VAN TUYL:— Well? 

RITA: — (Not looking at him) — A young man come join our 
serenata — Reppa. 'is name vas — Reppa Aquilone. 'e vas an'some — 
an' 'e 'ad nize voice — oh, var-y light, you know — but steel — 



ROMAXXE. 21 



simpatico. Ve stan' together-r an' have — I dunno — vone, two 
duets. An' so eet goes for two — t'ree veeks an' every time 'e 
smile an' look at me my 'ear-r-rt is full wid gr-r-reat beeg vishes 
an' I feel like everyt'ing in all de vor-r-rld is new an' bor-r-rn 
again — an' so vone evening 'e come vid me to my leetle r-room — an' 
den *e tell me dat 'e love me — an' all night long 'e 'old me close 
an' keese me — an' I feel 'is 'ot br-r-reat' like a fir-r-re upon my 
face — an' de beating of 'is 'ear-r-t like strong blows 'ere — against 
my own — an' den 'e sleep. But I — I do not sleep. I lie steel an' 
qviet an' in my mind I have vone t'ought — "Is dis vhat people mean 
vhen dey say — Lo-ove?" An' so de 'ours go b}^ an' de night is 
feenish. an' a — a — 'ow you say? a long, theen piece of sunlight, it 
creep in, through my leetle window, an' it shine on Beppa where 
'e lie beside me. An' oh I 'e look so young — an' den de sunlight, 
'ow you say? — eet tease him, so 'e 'alf vake up, an' 'e veenk 'is 
eyes an' say "Ah, Rita Ti amo !" — an' den 'e sigh an' put 'is had 'ere 
— on my shoulder — little a leetle bab-ee dat is tir-r-red, an' 'e go 
to sleep again. (With a passionate tenderness) — Ah, oh! I put my 
ar-r-rm about 'im an' I smile an' t'ink "For Lo-ove I vaited all 
night long, an' wid de day — it come!" 

VAN TUYL:— And so it does, my dear. 

RITA: — (In a different voice) — You t'ink so? Vait — ! (She 
has turned away) — In tvelve 'our — tvelve 'our 'e sell me to an 
English traveller-r for feefty lira. At fir-r-rst, I t'ink I die — I 
soffer so. An' den at las' I on'erstan' — an' laugh — an' know dat 
I 'ave been vone gr-r-reat beeg fool — 

VAN TUYL:— (Protesting;— My dear, I— 

RITA : — (Shaking her clenched hands) — A fool to t'ink dere 
vas some gr-r-reater-r better-r love — a love dat come at mor-r-rning 
an' shine like sunshine — yes, all t'rough de day I 

VAN TUYL:— There is. 

RITA: — (Fiercely) — Dat is vone lie! You 'ear — ? Vone lie! 
i Voluptuously) — Love is a str-r-ruggle— ver' cr-reul an' sweet — all 
full of madness an' of whisper-r-red vor-r-rds an' leetle laughs 
dat br-r-reak into a sigh ! Lover is do hunger-r for anoder-r's 
flesh — a deep down t' ir-r-rst and dreenk anoder-r's blood — love is 
a beast dat feed all t'rough de night an vhen de mor-r-rning come 
— Love dies! (Slight pause.) 

VAN TUYL: — My dear, I think you must have suffered a 
great deal. 

RTTA: — Yes — because I 'ave believe vonce in a lie. but — not 
any mor-r-re ! (With a grimace) — Oh. vhy ve talk about dose 
bad ol' t'ings? — see 'ere — I blow dem far avay ! Pst — ! Pouf — ! 
(With an enchanting smile) — Now look, dey are all gone! (As 
he does not answer, hut looks at her) — You know what I t'ink — 
ve'es ? 

VAN TUYL:— (Smiling)— I never know. 

RITA : — I t'ink — dat you an' I have not come qvite to de en'. 

VAN TUYL : — My dear, 3-ou make me very happy. 

RITA : — So you vill drive wid me tomor-r-row after-r-noon 
at four-r? 

VAN TUYL :— I'm honored. 

RIT.A : — 1 tell you somet'ing — 

VAN TUYL:— Well? 



22 ROMANCE. 



RITA : — You are iiaugh-tee — but I like you fr-r-rightfuU-ee 
much ! 

VAN TUYL : — (Kissing her hand) — (The orchestra begins a 
waltz downstairs.) Good Heavens, I've forgotten I'm a host! 
What will those wretched people think! My arm — ? (He offers 
it to her.) 

RITA: — (Like an unwilling child.) — Vhen mus' I sing? 

VAN TUYL:— Let's see. I've asked Artot and Capoul to do 
the duet from La Traznata — and then I want the sextette from 
Lucia — and after that we'll all be ready for the Golden Nightin- 
gale! 

RITA:— (Lying on the sofa)—Dt Golden Nightingale vill 
r-r-rest alone 'ere till de time is come. An' oh ! sen' someone vid 
'er r-red vine an' er lemon joice — she is so tir-r-red — she cannot 
sing vidous ! 

VAN TUYL:— That's all? 

RITA:— Dat's all. 

VAN TUYL:— (On the stairs)— You're beautiful tonight. 

RITA: — (Lying back and looking at him) — Vhy not? My 
star-r-r is Venus — I vas bor-r-rn for love ! 

VAN TUYL: — (Tenderly) — "O love forever in thy glory go!" 
(He disappears. The sound of the waltz is heard full of insistent 
rhythm. She whistles it under her breath, looking straight up into 
the airy conducting it gently with one swaying hand. Once she 
stops zvhisltling to laugh to herself. At last with a sigh, she 
drops her hand, flings her arms above her head, stretches her 
body, and closes her eyes with a voluptuous smile. A moment's 
pause. Then Tom enters from Left.) 

TOM : — Mr. Van Tuyl, your — (Suddenly seeing her) — Oh, I — I 
beg your pardon ! 

RITA: — (Opening her eyes) — Eh — ? 

TOM :— (Horribly embarrassed)— I— I thought Mr. Van Tuyl 
was here. I'm afraid I — (He makes as if to go.) 

RITA: — You are-r-r going? 

TOM: — (Turning) — I beg your pardon? 

RITA : — (Smiling) — Don' go — please — 

TOM:— (Shuddering)— But— 1—1— 1— 

RITA: — I vas jost begun to be a leetle — 'ow you say? — 
lone-lee? An' now a nize young man come — oh! IVIy Lor-r-rd, I 
am so gla-ad. — (She smiles at him bewitchingly.) 

TOM: — You're sure — I'm not — intruding? 

RITA: — But no! Come in — an' — 'ow 30U say? — oh, yes! make 
your-r-rself qvite to 'ome ! 

TOM: — Er — thank you. — (He sits down on other side of room.) 

RITA : — Vhy you seet vay, vay over der're ? 

TOM :— Why— er— er— I don't know— I— 

RITA: — (Szceetly) — Ar-r-re you afr-r-raid of me? — (As one 
would talk to a young and timid baby) — I vill not 'ur-rt you — 
no,- I like de young men! Please come! Seet 'ere! — (She indi- 
cates a chair at foot of couch.) 

TOM : — You're — very kind, — (He comes over and sits down.) 
RITA:— (Lying back with a sigh)— A-ah\ — (She smiles at him 
— A pause — then, curiously) — Vhat make you-r-r face so r-r-red? 
TOM: — (In consternation) — Mv face — 



ROMANCE. 23 



RITA : — (Dreamily) — Eet is de r-r-reddest t'ing I evair see in 
all my life! 

TOM : — (Agonized) — It's rather — warm in here. 

RITA : — You t'ink so ? / am qvite, qvite col'. 

TOM :— That's— very odd. (Pause.) — I'm afraid I — I haven't 
had the honor of being — presented — er — er, my name's Armstrong. 

RITA : — Ar-rm-str-rong ! But dat is not all — eh ? Now wait 
— no — yes — eccof I 'ave it — Teem! 

TOM:— (SUghflv nettled)— No, not Tim. That's Irish. Tom. 

RITA :— Tome ! 

TOM :— Not Tome ! Tom ! 

RITA :— Tom— Dat r-r-right— ? (Repeating it to herself)— 
Tom — Tom ! (Laughing) — Mv Lor-r-rd — vhat a f unnee name ! 

TOM: — It's not a real name. It's just short for Thomas. 

RITA: — (Illuminated) — Ah — Thommaso ! Si — si! Now I 
on'erstan' ! I vonce 'ave a f rien' name Tommasso — oh, yes, ver' 
long a-go ! 'E 'ave jost vone leg; 'e vas (ow you say? — r-r-rag- 
picker-r!) 

TOM:— Was he? 

RITA: — (Critically) — You look mos' ver' much like 'im ! 

TOM: — (Pulling uncomfortably at his coat) — Do I? 

RITA : — (With a sudden happy thought) — May-be you are fine, 
bceg, Amer-r-rican r-rag-picker — no ? 

TOM:— (Severely)— Mdid?im, I am the rector of St. Giles'! 

RITA:— R-r-rector? 

TOM : — Yes — I mean I — I own it — I'm its minister — its 
clergyman — 

RITA: — (Quickly) — Oh. cler-gee-man! I have forget! 'ow 
bee-autiful! An' St. Giles — who vas 'e? Some leetle Amer-r-rican 
saint — hein ? 

TOM : — (Sternly) — St. Giles is one of the most important 
figures in the great history of the Church of England. 

RITA: — (Softly) — Is dat so? Anodder cler-gee-man — ye-es? 
(He nods) — 'Ow fr-r-rightful-ee nize! Ve never-r 'ear of 'im in 
Ital-ee ! 

TOM:— (Struck) — In Italy—! Why, you don't live in Italy? 

RITA : — I have a house in Flor-r-rence an' a villa on de Lake 
of Como — yes. 

TOM :—(With a relieved laugh)— Oh, that's all right, then. 
Do vou know what I thought for a moment? 

RITA:— No. Vhat you t'ink? 

TOM : — I thought that you might be Madame Cavaini-:— or lini 
or whatever her name is! You know — the opera singer! 

RITA : — (Laughing) — You f unnee man ! 

TOM : — Forgive me — do ! 

RITA :— It vill be 'ar-red ! You 'ave not seen La Cavalini here? 

TOAI : — I — ? Oh, no. / don't go to the opera! 

RIT K:— (Confidentially)— Yon have not meess much vhen you 
meess La Cavalini. She is of a fatness— ("f^U/i gesture)— oh, like 
dat! 

TOM: — You're sure? 

RITA :—(Nodding)—She eat twelve poun' of spaghetti everv 
day! 



TOAI :— No ! 



24 ROMANCE. 



RITA : — (Enthusiastically) — An' uglee — oh, Madonna — 'ow dat 
womans is ug-lee I Jost to look at 'er give vone de nose-bleed ! 

TOM : — But everybody says — 

RITA : — (Interrupting^ — Leesten ! Vone eye is made of glass 
— na' 'er nose — my Lor'rd, 'er nose ! 

TOM :— What's the matter with her nose? 

RITA : — (Covering her face with her hands) — She 'as not got 
vone — ! 

TOM : — But surely you're mistaken — why — 

RITA : — (Shuddering) — Jost papier-mache — stuck on to her 
face! O Dio! 

TOM : — Well, I suppose her figure is what makes them say — 

RITA: — (Interrupting) — I tell you somet'ing ter-r-rihle! She 
'as a 'ump ! 

TOM:— A what? 

RITA : — (With horrid emphasis) — A 'ump — a 'ump upon 'er 
back! 

TOM: — You mean a hump? 

RITA: — (Nodding) — 'Er dressmaker in Paris — she tell me dat! 
Now vhat you t'ink — eh? 

TO^l:^( Rising) — Do you reallv want to know? 

RITA :— Yes— tell me, please! 

TOM: — (Very sternly) — I think, madam, vou have been guilty 
of the grossest cruelty ! 

RITA:— What— ? 

TOM: — (Oracularly) — Yes — cruelty, I repeat the word! To 
hear a woman, on whom an all-wise Providence has showered its 
choicest gifts deride, hold up to scorn and gloat over the physical 
failings of a less fortunate sister — for, madam, you are sisters in 
the sight of God ! I say this heartless act deserves a far more 
serious rebuke than any I'm at — at liberty to offer. 

RITA : — (Suddenly covering her face with her pocket hand- 
kerchief and gasping) — Ah — don' — don't — 

TOM : — What if this unhappy lady does suffer from exagger- 
ated fleshiness? Beneath that bulk may beat the tenderest of 
female hearts ! What if one eye is glass ? The other, doubtless, 
is the window of a noble soul ! And even though she bears a 
hump upon her back, she may, with Christian patience, change it 
to a (Suddenly inspired) — a cross ! 

RITA: — (Her voice still covered, shaking) — Don' — don't — ! 
Dio Mio — .' 

TOM : — (Pompously) — I am glad very few, poor, simple words 
have touched you. Never forget them — and, should the tempta- 
tion come again, remember that a soft, sweet tongue is Woman's 
brightest ornament ! 

RITA:— (Unable to control herself )—Tschk\ Tschk ! Tschk— ! 
(She presses the handkerchief over her mouth.) 

TOM : — (Suddenly, taking a step toward her) — Madam — .' 

RITA: — (Dropping the handkerchief and screaming with 
laughter) — I cannot 'elp it — oh — ! oh — ! oh! 

TOM : — (Grinding his teeth and striking one palm against the 
other as he turns aivav) — Madam — ! You — a-ah — 

RITA:— (Exhausted, gasping)— Oh— ! Oh— .'—(Wiping her 
eyes) — My Lor-r-rd — ! (A liveried servant conies from down- 



ROMANCE. 25 



stairs carrying a silver tray with glasses, a carafe and a decanter 
of wine.) 

THE SERVANT:— The wine, madam. 

RITA:— P-put it 'ere— on dis leetle table. (She indicates the 
little table by the head of the couch. The servant places the tray 
upon it.) 

THE SERVANT:— Is that all, madam? 

RITA: — Yes — dat is all. (The servant goes downstairs.) 

TOM -.—(Stiffly)— Good night. 

RITA: — You are not going? 

TOM : — After what has occurred, I see no reason for staying. 

RITA: — (Carelessly) — All r-right. (She half rises and occu- 
pies herself with an elaborate mixing of the wine and lemon juice 
and water.) 

TOM: — (Lingering) — Aren't you sorry for making fun of me? 

RITA: — (Always intent on the drink) — Oh — so fr-r-rightfull-ee 
sorr-r-ry ! 

TOU:— (Doubtfully)— YoM don't look it. 

RITA: — (As before) — Is dat so? Good bye. (Tom walks to 
stairs, pauses, hesitates — then slowly comes back and sits down in 
his old chair.) 

TOM :— Madam 

RITA : — (Turning to glance at him) — Oh, I t'ought you go ! 

TOM : — (With dignity) — So long as you're sincerely sorry — so 
long as you truly repent — (He pauses expectantly, awaiting her 
corroboration. But she whistles gaily and pays no attention to him. 
He finished somewhat lamely) — I don't suppose there's any need 
of my going. 

RITA : — (Gaily, as she pours the drink from one glass to an- 
other) — Look — see 'ow &^^-eautiful I do it — ! (Her voice soften- 
ing) — Somevone who was vonce ver' fon' of me, 'e teach me dis! 
(He stares, hypnotised. She finishes and fills both glasses) — Der-re ! 
(She holds one out to him) — Dat is for you ! 

TOM : — (Rousing himself) — Thanks, I — I don't take stimu- 
lants. 

RITA: — (Very softly) — Not even vhen / give dem — ? (A 
pause, she holds out the glass and smiles. At last he takes it) — 
Ah, dat is r-r-rigjit ! — (She lifts her own glass) — Now vhat ve 
dreenk to — eh? (Suddenly) — Ecco! Dat nice ol' cler-r-rgee-man — 
St. Gile' ! You don' like dat — no ? (She pauses and considers, 
gazing at him. At last in a slow, mysterious whisper) — Den 'ow 
you like it if / dreenk to vhat I see in your eyes — an' you dreenk 
to vhat you see in mine — ? (A pause. She stares at him steadily 
with a mysterious smile. He cannot take his eyes avmy. Together 
they slowly lift their glasses to their lips and drink, their gaze 
never faltering. From outside can be heard very faintly the voices 
of the other singers, singing the sextette from "Lucia," with the 
orchestra accompaniment.) 

TOM : — What are you ? Tell me — I — don't understand ! 

RITA : — (Slowly and mysteriously) — I am a cup — all full of 
sacr-r-red vine ! I stand upon an altar built of gol' an' pearls an' 
paid for wid de blood an' tear-rs of men ! De steam of per-rfume 
dat fills all de air, it is de t'oughts of me in poits' 'ear-rts — de 
white flowers lying at my feet, dey are de young boys' bee-auti-ful 
deep d-r-reams ! My doors are open vide to all de vor-r-rld ! I 



26 ROMANCE. 



shine in dis gr-r-reat dar-rkness like a living star, an' somewhere 
— some time every man 'as 'ear-rd my voice — "Come, o you t'ir-resty 
vones — come dere is vine for all !" (Pause.) 

TOM: — (At last, almost in a whisperj— Who are you? What's 
your name? 

RITA:— Ah, vhy you ask? 

TOM : — (Always looking at her) — Because I want to see you 
again — and again — 1 want to ask you things — (His voice rising) — 
I want to know you — 

RITA : — (Interrupting) — Ah, poor young man — all dat can 
never be ! 

TOM -.—(Rising)— It must— it's got to be! 

RITA: — (Gently) — Ssh — ! Don' make a noise! (Impulsively) 
— Come 'ere! (He comes up to the side of the couch) — Kneel 
down — (As he does so) — Dere — like dat! Close — close so ve can 
talk. (Picking up her bouquet) — You see my violets 'ere — so sveet 
an' fr-r-resh an' bee-eautiful? 'Ow long you t'ing dey last? 

TOM : — A long time, if you treat them well. 

RITA : — Now look — ! (She pulls the flowers in handfuls from 
the bouquet) — I pr-r-ress dem on my face an' neck — I feel dere 
fr-r-resh-ness on my eyes an' 'air-r — I dreenk dere sveetness like 
I dreenk new vine — 

TOM : — (IVarningly) — You're crushing them ! 

RITA : — Vhat does it matter-r ? I have keess dem — an' dey vere 
bor-rn to die ! (Taking up two great handfuls and covering his 
face with them) — Don't t'ink sad t'oughts of vhat mus' be — jost 
laugh an' love dem — dat is all dey need ! (Giving him more) — Take 
dese — an' dese — take mor-r-re — oh, take dem all — (She throws a last 
handful into the air. The flowers fall all about them.) — Dere — ! 
(Showing the bouquet holder) — It is empty. Not vone is left to 
take 'ome vhen I go. You on'erstan'? 

TOM :— No— tell— me ! 

RITA : — (Tenderly) — Our meeting 'ere tonight — vhat is it but 
a bunch of violets? Of flower-r-rs dat ve smell an' love an' t'row 
into de air-r? Vhy should ve take dem 'ome vid us an' vatch dem 
die? I t'ink it is oh! Much mor-r-re vise to leave dem her-r-re — 
like leetle memor-r-ries — all sveet an' white an' scatter-r-red on 
de gr-r-roun' ! 

TOM: — Couldn't I keep — just one or two? 

RITA: — (Smiling) — Dey vere not meant for keeping. Dere 
whole life vas tonight! 

TOM :— (Simply)— 1 know— but I'd like to try. (A little pause. 
She looks at him and shakes her head.) 

RITA : — Ah, you are so young ! (She picks up a few flowers 
from where they have fallen and puts them in his button-hole as he 
kneels beside her) — Dere! (Then, with her fingers still at his but- 
tonhole) — I vish — (She hesitates.) 

TOM :— What do you wish ? 

RITA: — (Very simply, almost like a child.) — I vish I knew 
some flower-r-rs dat would never-r die ! (There is an instant's 
pause, then quite suddenly, he seises her hands and kisses them 
again and again.) 

RITA: — (Trying to rise.) — No — stop it — vhat you do? — (She 
manages to fear herself azvay from him Just as Fan Tuyl appears 



ROMANCE. 27 



on the stairs. He pauses on the top and looks at them. A brief 
pause.) 

RITA : — (With complete self-command.) — Ah, 'ow nize you are 
to come ! 

VAN 1\JY'L:— (Politely)— Yom' It ready, Madame? 

RITA : — Qvite, qvite r-r-ready. (To Tom) — T'ank you m'sieur, 
for-r your-r kin' polite-ness. Good-bye. (She hows to him and 
picks up her scarf, gloves, fan, etc., preparatory to departure.) 

TOM : — (HoarselyJ — But I — want to see you again ! 

RITA:— You are sure? 

TOM -.—(Gulping)— Yes— 

RITA: — (Very ' Femme du monde") — Den vould you come to 
my 'otel tomorrow afternoon at four-r? It is de Br-r-revoor-rt 
House — you know. 

TOM:— (With difiiculty)—A\\ right— 

RITA : — (Smiling) — An' I vill take you for a leetle drive upon 
your-r 6^^-eauti-f ul Fift' Avenue ! 

VAN TUYL: — (Always very polite) — And our engagement, 
madame, what becomes of that? 

RITA: — Our leetle engagement is — is — 'ow you say? 

VAN TUYL:— Postponed? 

RITA : — (Finishing) — Een-definite-lee. ((Van Tuyl bows. She 
moves towards the stairs.) 

TOM : — (Who has never taken his eyes from her now steps 
forwards as he sees her leaving.) — Wait — ! I'm awfully sorry, but 
I — don't know your name — 

RITA : — Oh, of course — I 'ave forget — so stupeed ! Vill you 
tell 'im — Meestaire Van Tuyl? (At stairs — she gives them each the 
most correct of smiles and bows, unconsciously dropping her hand- 
kerchief, as she does so, then goes downstairs. As she goes there 
is a murmur welling up into loud applause which comes from belozv. 
She is smiling and kissing her hand to this unseen crowd as she 
disappears. A pause. Van Tuyl lights a cigar. Tom, staring 
after her conies slowly to the top of the stairs, sees the handker- 
chief and picks it up. He is fingering it aimlessly when he sees the 
initials at one corner. He starts, looks at them more carefully — 
and then turns dumbly to Van Tuyl. The orchestra begins below.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Gently) — Do you mean to say you really 
didn't know who she was? 

TOM: — (Shaking his head and speaking almost inarticulately) 
— No — I hadn't the least idea — 

A WOMAN'S VOICE -.—(Sing below)— 

"Non conosci il bel suol 

Che di porpora hail, ciel? 
II bel suol i de' re 

Con piu tersi i colori 
Ove r aura e piu dolce 

Piu lieve I'angel." 

(Tom walks slowly to the gallery and stands there, looking 
down at the singer in the room below. Van Tuyl watches him rather 
sadly as) 

THE CURTAIN FALLS. 



ROMANCE. 



Act 2 



SCENE: 

Xew Year's afternoon. The study of St. Giles Rectory, a 
charming old-fashioned, spacious New York House, looking out 
upon a quiet street. The study, a square room. At left are two 
windows, with heavy, rather faded curtains. Holly wreaths, tied 
with scarlet bows, hang in both windows. At back is the double 
doorway leading into the hall. At one side of it hangs the bell rope. 
Over it is a long car, and above the center of this a stag's head — 
mounted. At right is the white marble mantel and fire-place in 
which a fire is burning. On the mantel are several silver cups, 
medals in their open cases, little old-fashioned photographs of 
young men, a big old clock, and two handsome candelabra. Over 
the mantel is a large steel engraving of Del Sarto's St. John. Above 
fireplace in corner, right back, is an old-fashioned cabinet with 
glass covered shelves and drawers. Below fireplace is a rack con- 
taining rods and guns. A pair of boxing gloves hangs here, too. 
There are book cases at back and above fire-place and windows, 
filled with sober, pious, dusty volumes. On top the bookcases are 
a few more engravings of old Masters — a last supper, etc. Also an 
occasional bust. In front of windows — left — is a very large, heavy 
table desk ; on it are a lamp, water pitcher and glass, desk, fittings, 
several books, a daguerreotype in a velvet case, a large, well-used 
Bible, a smaller Testament, etc. A big leather chair faces this desk 
at left. There are one or two other chairs at right of it. At right 
of room, facing corner — right-back — so that keyboard is not seen, 
is a small but exquisite old-fashioned square piano. There are 
candles on each side of keyboard and several rather worn volumes 
of bound music, neatly ranged. In the corner — left-back — is an 
arm chair piled high with books and papers. There is a hair cloth 
settee and one other chair near the fire-place. All the furniture is 
old-fashioned black walnut, upholstered in black. An old-fashioned 
carpet covers the floor. 

The sunlight of a cold winter's afternoon comes through the 
windows. Outdoors the glitter of snow is seen. As the act goes 
on the sunlight changes to the ruddy glow of a winter's sunset and 
then the twilight fills the room with shadows. As the curtain rises 
Miss Armstrong, 'wearing a little black silk apron, is discovered 
arranging some roses in a bowl on the desk. The clock on the 
mantel strikes four. 

(The door opens and Roger, the old Butler, appears.) 

ROGER: — Miss Van Tuyl. (Susan enters, dressed in bonnet 
and mantle.) 

SUSAN : — (Coming in) — Tom. I — (Seeing Miss Armstrong) — 
Oh, "Happy New Year. Miss Armstrong! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Don't be premature, my dear— it's only 
New Year's Eve! (Kissing her) — What nice cold cheeks you have! 

SUSAN -.—(Laughing) — I ought to— I've been walking. Tom 
asked me to come in at four, and hear about the final arrangements 
for tonight. 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Tonight— ? 



ROMANCE. 29 



SUSAN : — Yes. The midnight New Year's service for the lost 
and friendless — 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Oh, that! 

SUSAN : — (Enthusiastically) — We're going to have a brass band 
and torches and sing hymns and parade the streets for half an hour 
beforehand — oh. it'll be wonderful! Is Tom upstairs? 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— rA^^;-z^0M.y/3-;— No. He— went out af- 
ter luncheon — er — to pay a call. 

SUSAN :—('M^awm^/3;;— At the Brevvoort House? 

MISS ARMSTRONG ■.—(Flustered)— Oh, I'm sure he'll be here 
if you wait a moment ! He has a Deaconesses' Meeting at a quar- 
ter to five and I know he never would miss that! 

SUSAN :— Wouldn't he? Well, we'll set— (Noticing the 
flowers) — What lovely roses ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— They're mine— they came just a mo- 
ment ago 1 Without any card, too ! 

SUSAN: — (ChaMng her) — Aha! An anonymous admirer — ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG :— (Embarrassed and pleased)— My dear, 
how foolish ! But you know it's the first time in years that any- 
one's sent me flowers, and — 

SUSAN : — (There is the sound of sleigh-bells outside.) (At 
the window) — Oh, look! It's uncle's sleigh! He's driving his new 
team ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Is he getting out? 

SUSAN : — Yes. He's come to call for me on his way uptown. 
(Glancing at clock) — I wonder if Tom — 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— My dear, there's something I want 
to discuss with your uncle, so I think you may as well go home. 

SUSAN : — Miss Armstrong, promise me not to tell Tom I 
came — unless he speaks of it himself, I mean. I don't want to 
be a — a drag on him — oh. Miss Armstrong, promise — please! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Very well, my dear— if you insist. 
But that boy really deserves a good, plain talking to, and— 
(Roger enters)— 

ROGER: — (Announcing) — Mr. Van Tuyl. (He stands aside 
to let Van Tuyl pass.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Who wears a long fur coat and driving 
gloves) — How d'you do, Miss Armstrong. Real New Year's Eve 
weather — eh? (Taking off his coat and giving it to Roger) — 
Well, Susannah ; I thought I'd find you and Tom waving your 
arms and singing hymns and generally getting up steam for to- 
night's procession ! 

SUSAN: — (Smiling) — Tom's out. Can Ralph take me home? 
(She puts on her wraps.) 

VAN TUYL: — Yes — good idea. 1 don't like to keep the horses 
standing. (To Miss Armstrong) — Have you seen my new team, 
Miss Armstrong? The prettiest sight in New York — (At the 
window) — Look at that off mare there! Isn't she a little witch? 
The highest stepper on the Avenue and a mouth like a French 
kid glove ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— She looks very wild indeed! (To 
Susan) — Good bye, my dear. Tell Ralph to be careful. 

SUSAN : — (Kissing Miss Armstrong) — Don't forget your 
promise. (In a lower voice) — xA.nd, dear, don't worry. I don't 
worry — 1 know it's going to be all right! (She goes out) — 



30 ROMANCE. 



MISS ARMSTRONG:— fTMrMm^ from the door)— Oh, Mr. 
Van Tuyl, — I am in great — in a very great distress! 

VAN TUYL:— Dear lady, what is it? 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— CCo'iw^ quietly)— Vm ashamed to 
act like this — but — it's been so hard carrying it on my mind — all 
alone — 

VAN TUYL: — (Soothingly) — There — ! Count on me. 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— You're Tom's oldest friend— and his 
father's and mother's before him — and you're his leading parish- 
ioner, too — and the chairman of the vestry — (She sniffs.) 

VAN TUYL : — (Comfortingly) — I know — I know — 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— ("Br^a^/wy down)— Oh, save him, Mr. 
Van Tuyl — save him from that d-d-dreadful woman! (She sobs.) 

VAN TUYL: — I've done my best. He came to see me Satur- 
day about the new gymnasium and I talked to him as I would 
have to my own son. 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— What did he say? 

VAN TUYL: — He was very sweet, but somehow he wasn't 
there — the real Tom, I mean — it was only the outside shell that 
I was speaking to. 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— I know! I've seen it! He's with 
her! 

VAN TUYL: — (Reassuringly) — Oh, come, Miss Armstrong! 
You mustn't be alarmed ! Remember that she sails tomorrow 
morning, and — (Glancing out zmndow) — Hello — ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Stopping)— What's the matter? 

VAN TUYL: — Why, her carriage is just stopping at your 
door ! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— r/H amazed horror)— Not Madame 
Cavallini — ? 

VAN TUYL :— She's evidently going to pay a call I— (As Miss 
Armstrong goes and pulls the bell-rope) — What are you going 
to do? 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Tell Roger I'm not at home. 

VAN TUYL:— (Frankly J— 'Let her come in. Perhaps I could 
say a word or two — 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— ('£ar;j^.y^/3';—You'll make her promise 
not to write to him? 

VAN TUYL:— I'll do my best. 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— (VehementlyJ— There ought to be a 
law against such women ! Why, I'd sooner have a hungry tigress 
walk into this room than — 

ROGER: — (At door) — Madame Cavallini — (He enters and 
stands aside to let her pass. She comes in quickly. She is 
dressed in a wonderful black velvet and ermine tnantle, an 
ermine bonnet. In her arms, as if it were a baby, she carries a 
great ermine muff. From one end of this peeps a monkey's head, 
adorned with a tiny pink satin turban, large aigrette and diamond 
clasp,) 

RITA: — (To Miss A., shaking hands) — My dear-r mees, 'ow 
you do? I come in for-r vone meenute just to say good-bye an' — 

MISS ARMSTRONG: — Seeing monkey and draiving back with 
a cry)—0—\ What's that—? 

RITA: — Vhat — ? (Noting her look) — An' 1 breeng my leetle 
bab-ee to show vou. 1 call 'er bab-et — because I am so — lone-lee 



ROMANCE. 31 



— you too 'ave no bab-ee so you on'erstan' — ye-es ? (Seeing Van 
TuyU — Oh — ! (Advancing to him) — 'Ow you do, Meestairs Van 
Tuyl? (She shakes hands with him.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Shaking hands) — How do you do? It seems 
a long time since we've met. 

RITA: — Dat night I sing at your-r so bee-eau-ti-ful soiree! 
To me, also, it seems a long, long time. 

VAN TUYL: — And Adelina — (To the monkey) — Cemment ca 
va mademoiselle — hein f 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Adelina— ? 

RITA : — Ye-es — because she look so much like Patti in La 
Traviata, (To Van Tuyl) — I t'ink she 'ave forget you, sir. 
VAN TUYL: — You ladies can forget me so quickly. 
RITA: — Ye-es? Sometime — I wish vou men for-rget a leetle 
— too! (Taking the monkey out from her muff.) — Tesaruccio mio, 
sei quasi gelato — non importa qui ci fa caldo! (The little animal 
is dressed in pale blue satin trousers and coat, diamond buttons, 
etc.) 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— Why, it's all dressed up! 
RITA : — (In surprise) — But sure-lee she is dr-ress ! — Do you 
vant she go — 'ow you say? — na-ked? Dat vould be — ah! shock- 
eeng! 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— The horrid little animal! 
RITA: — (Warningly) — Tschk ! — Tschk — ! You 'urt 'er feel- 
ing! Ecco — / See — ! She begin to c-r-r-y ! 

(To monkey) — Belles mia! tu un' faresti male a nessuno! 
(Taking monkey) — I t'ink she is like me, Meestaire Van Tuyl. 
(With a reproachful glance towards Miss Armstrong) — She is not 
'app-ee vhen de peoples do not 1-ove 'er ! (Slipping the monkey 
into muff again) — Ti amo — bambinello mio — si — ti amo! 
MISS ARMSTRONG:— r^a/r/it«^ her)— Ugh! 
RITA : — (Putting both muff and monkey in big chair by fire 
where neither can be seen) — I put 'er 'ere an' she vill tak vone 
leetle nap ! (Bending over chair) — Dormi, bebina cara di mamma — 
(Rising and turning quickly to Miss Armstrong) — Santi! I 'ave 
tor-get ! 1 'ave somet'ing to tell you fr-r-om Meestaire Tom ! 
MISS ARMSTRONG :— You've seen him? 
RITA : — (Innocently) — But ye-es — 'e dr-r-rive wid me. I leave 
'im at de — oh, vhat you say? — de con-firm-a-tion class — 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Interrupting)— Isn't he coming 
home ? 

RITA : — Yes-es — jost a leetle vhile, 'e say. (Holding out her 
hand to Miss A.) — So I come fir-r-rs' — to make my r-r-respec' to 
you, dear mees, an' say good-bye. 

MISS ARMSTRONG :—rS//#/y to Van Tuyl, paying no atten- 
tion to the outstretched hand) — When Madame Cavallini goes, I 
hope you'll step up to my sitting-room and have a cup of tea. 
(He bows.) 

Rli:\:—(Seeing the roses on the desk)— A-3ih\ De r-r-roses 

— dey ar-rive all r-r-right? You like dem — ye-es? I 'ave choose 

each vone myself — ! (She smiles winningly at Miss Armstrong.) 

MISS ARMSTRONG:— (Amazed)— You sent me those—? 

RITA:— (Wistfully)— ]ViSt a leetle surprise— to r-r-rember me 

two— t'ree days aftair I 'ave gone— sonfar! 



32 ROMANCE. 



iMISS ARMSTRONG:— r^//^r a speechless moment)— Thank 
you — you were very kind. (She goes over and takes up the bowl 
of roses from the desk) — Mr. Van Tuyl will put you in your 
carriage whenever you're ready. Good-bye, madame, I wish you 
a pleasant voyage, (She goes out at back.) 

RITA : — (Turning in wonder to Van Tuyl) — Vhat for-r she 
go avay so qveeck? 

VAN TUYL:— I asked her to. Come here. (She looks at 
him and suddenly smiles.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Smiling too)— You little monkey, you — (Re- 
covering himself) — Now pretend for five minutes I'm your father 
confessor ! 

RITA: — You vant to sco-old me — ye-es? 

VAN TUYL:— (Taking her by the shoulders)— \\q\\, that de- 
pends — 

VAN TUYL: — Has Tom asked you to marry him? 

RITA:— (After a little pause)— No. 

VAN TUYL:— I'm glad. And if he did? 

RITA : — (Not looking after him, speaking with a rather sulky 
defiance) — I vould not marr-ee 'im — an A-mer'can cler-gee-man — 
'e vould vant I stop sing-ing — an' be so fr-r-rightful goo-ood — ^an' 
live 'ere in dis 'orrible New Yor-r-rk — mos' col' diz-zgree-a-ble 
place I evair see — ! Adelina, in two — t'ree mont's she die — ye-es! 
An' 'e vould not let me go to Paris vhen I need de new dr-r-ress — 
an' I vould be all bor-re — an' seeck — (With a sniff) — Mebbe I die, 
too — an' den — every vone is gla-ad — ! (She dries her eyes resolutely 
with her handkerchief) — Oh, no, my frien', I could not marr-ee 
'im — no — no — dat vould be vone beeg meestake ! 

VAN TUYL : — Then why do you lead the poor boy on ? 

RITA:— Lead 'im— ? 

VAN TUYL : — He's not like the young gentlemen you're accus- 
tomed to have circling round you — remember that, my dear I He's 
not a Baron Vigier or a Captain Ponsonby. 

RITA : — But no, my friend — but no — 

VAN TUYL : — (Interrupting) — Well, isn't that the way you're 
treating him? Aren't you amusing yourself — just a little bit at 
his expense? 

RITA : — No — you do not on'erstan' — ah ! it is so 'arr-r-rd to 
say ! Now leesten — ! (She speaks very seriously) — 'Ow long I 
know 'im? Two months? Ver' veil — (Solemnly) — In all dat time 
'e 'as not spik to me a vor-r-rd of lo-ove — no, not vone leetle 
vor-r-rd ! 

VAN TVYL:—(Ama::;ed)—What—'/ 

RITA : — At fir-r-rst I try to make him — moh, you know — 
for-r fun ! An' den — some'ow — I am so sorr-ee for-r 'im — an' I 
don' tr-r-ry any mor-re ! 

(She sits on a hassock at his feet, leaning against his knees. 
He pjits his hand on her shoulder.) 

VAN TVYL:— (Tenderly)— My poor little Rita— don't you 
know there's nothing in all this, dear, for you? 

RITA : — Oh, yes ! I 'ave often say, "Seely voman do not see 
'im vhen 'e come today. Jost tell de gentleman down-stair-r-r 
you vant to sleep an' no-bod-ee shall vake you up I" 

VAN TUYL:— Well, why didn't von? 



ROMANCE. 33 



RITA : — 1 say no-bod-ee — like dat ! No-bod-ee in de vor-r-rld 
— (Shamefacedly) — Excep' jost Meestaire Tom ! (With a sigh) — 
O Dio. come e dura la vita! 

VAN TUYL:— So that's the way it went! 
RITA : — (Glancing up at him) — I t'ink you smile a leetle — 
yes? 

VAN TUYL:— No, Fm not smiling, dear. (Pause.) 
RITA : — (With a sigh) — Ah, my f rien', I am vone gr-r-reat 
beeg fool — I — who 'ave believe I vas so vise ! — (She smiles and 
shakes her head.) 

VAN TUYL : — Never mind, my dear — it's over now. You're 
leaving us tomorrow. 

RITA: — (Glancing up) — You t'ink 'e vill for-get me — ye-es? 
VAN TUYL: — I'm sure you hope he will. 
RITA -.—(Looking off) — I t'ink I vill not for-get 'im — or if I 
do — it take a long, long time ! 

VAN TUYL: — Ssh ! Nonsense! (Putting his hands over her 
eyes) — Now think of all that's waiting for you over there ! Rome 
and the Spring in Florence — and Como with the snow still in the 
mountains — and Paris too — ! Rome — ! Just say it to yourself — ! 
Wily, you'll see the first acacias on the Boulevard St, Germain — 
you'll smell the lilacs when you're driving in the Bois — ! And 
Gounod will be there — and your dear old friend Rossini — I Think 
of the dinners at the Maison Doree — and the violets in the forest 
of Compiegne — ! Think of the suppers Cora Pearl will give! 
Why, don't you know what fun you're going to have? 
RITA : — Oh. dere on-lee vone t'ing I know. 
VAN TUYL:— What's that? 
RITA : — (Passionately) — I lo-ve 'im— 

VAN TUYL : — You're going to make him suffer a great deal. 
RITA : — (Unpinning a hunch of white violets from her wrap) — 
When 'e ask for-r me — jost give 'im dese — an' say it is — adieu — 
(She kisses the violets.) 

(Just here the door opens and Tom hursts in, full of splendid 
spirits and utterly hoyish and happy. He wears overcoat and 
gloves.) 

TOM : — (Entering) — Well, did you think I never was — (Seeing 
Van Tuyl) — Oh, is it you, sir? How do you do? (Shaking 
hands) — I'm glad Madame Cavallini hasn't been waiting here alone. 
TOM: — (Pulling off' his gloves) — Whew — ! It's cold outside! 
I'm nearly frozen and I ran home, too ! (Rubhing his hands) — 
I'll just put some coal on the fire and then we'll all sit down 
and — 

VAN TUYL: — I think Tom, Mme. Cavallini was just going 
when you came in. 

TOM -.—(Stopping)— Going— F 

RITA : — (Recollecting herself) — Ye-es, I mus' sleep a leetle 
befor-re to-night — my las' per-for-r-rmance — I so much vant to 
give my bes' — 

(She has moved toward the door.) 

TOM : — (Running up and taking her hand) — Oh. come, now, 
you're not going ! 

RITA -.—f Faltering ^—FWase. Meestaire Tom. de per-rfor- 
rmance — 



34 ROMANCE. 



TOM : — (Drawing her over to fire) — Oh, that's all right — it's 
Mignon and you know it backwards ! 

RITA : — (Helplessly to Van Tuyl) — You see — (Roger enters 
at back.) 

ROGER: — (At door) — Miss Armstrong's compliments, Mr. 
Van Tuyl, and tea is served in the sitting room upstairs. 

TOM : — (Quickly) — Don't say we're here ! We'll come up 
later — ! (Van Tuyl looks at Rita.) 

RITA:— (Pleadingly)— In jost vone leetle vhile ! 

VAN TUYL: — (With a shrug, turns and goes out. Roger 
closes the door after him.) 

TOM: — (With a sigh of pleasure as the door closes) — There! 
Now isn't this fine? I tell you, it's like a dream come true! 

RITA: — Vhat dr-r-eam, — please? 

TOM : — You — here in my big armchair in front of my lire — 
in my study ! 

RITA:— (Wistfully)— A dr-r-ream— ah, dat is vhat J am! A 
leetle dr-r-ream dat lose 'er vay an' r-r-rest vone meenute in your 
sleeping 'ear-r-rt — 

TOM:— One minute— ? Always! 

RITA: — (Smiling) — Ah no, my frien' — tomorrow you vake up 
— an' pouf! dat leetle dr-r-ream — she is all gone! 

TOM:— Please don't— 

RITA : — (Softly) — You 'ave been 'app-ee den — dese las' veeks 
— ye-es ? 

TOM : — (Lifting his eyes to hers) — You know. 

RITA: — (Very softly) — I 'ave been 'app-ee — too! 

TOM : — (Impulsively) — Don't go tomorrow — 

R]TA:— Vhat you say? 

TOM:— Stay on till spring! 

RITA : — But 'ave I not tell you I mus' sing in R-r-orne nex' 
mont' — ? An' I go to Venice for-r de new opera Verdi 'ave 
com-pose — 

TOM : — Don't go — oh, please don't go — 

RITA : — An' den I mus' see Mapleson in London — an' de 
R-r-russian con-cert tour begin in May — 

TOM: — I don't care — I just can't say good-bye — 

RITA: — (Illumined) — Den come wid me! 

TOM :— (Surprised)— What— ? 

RITA : — Go qveeck an' buy de teecket — 

TOM:— Ticket— ? 

RITA : — (Enthusiastically) — Ye-es — before dey are all gone ! 
an' tomor-r-row ve stan' on de boat — you an' me an' Adelina — 
an' ve vave de 'an-kerchief an' t'row de kees an' laugh ! Oh ! 
my Lor-r-rd. 'ow ve laugh at all de stup-eed peoples ve leave 
behin'! Hein? Vhat you t'ink of dat? 

TOM : — I think it's wonderful — but I've got a meeting of the 
Board of Charities tomorrow at eleven — and Patrick Crowley's 
funeral at twelve — and after dinner I offer my annual report to 
the Vestry committee — and in the evening my Knights of the 
Round Table boys — 

RITA: — (Interrupting) — I 'ave for-rget you are a clerg-er-man ! 

And I forgot you were a golden Nightingale ! (Pause.) 

RITA : — (Nodding to herself) — I t'ink it is a var'y good t'ing 
1 go avay tomorro-r-row ! 



ROMANCE. 35 



TOM: — (Much downcast) — But you're coming back next year? 

RITA : — (With gesture) — Ah, vhy talk about nex' year — it is 
so far away I 

TOM : — In my profession, one has to think a great deal about 
things that are far away. 

RITA : — Den you are var-y fool-ish — (As he starts to pro- 
test) — Yes, you are ! Leesten — 1 am ol' an' I know de vor-r-rld — 
so vhat I tell vou now vou mus' r-r-rembair alvays — 

TOM:— Well? 

RITA : — (Wistfully) — Yesterday p — iy is a dr-r-ream ve 'ave 
for-r-get. Tomorrow — jost de 'ope of some gr-r-reat 'appiness — 
some joy dat nevair come! Before — behin' — all clouds an' star-r-rs 
an' shad-ow — nodings — nodings dat it r-r-real — onlee de leetle 
meenute dat ve call today ! 

TOM -.—(Bitterly)— Today s so short ! 

RITA: — (With a smile) — Ah, you are young, my f rien' ! De 
time vill come vhen you are gl-ad to 'ave dat leetle meenute — so 
gla-ad you vould not t'ink to ask for-r mor-r-re ! 

TOM : — (Passionately) — Madame Cavallini — Margherita — I — 

RITA : — (Shrinking from his in sudden nervousness) — No — 
no — (Just here a hand-organ strikes up outside the window — left — 
playing "II Bacio.") 

TOM : — (Startled and furious) — Drat that hurdy-gurdy ! 

RITA: — (Slyly) — I t'ink it come jost in time! (Tom goes over 
to the window where he looks out. Meanwhile Rita is dancing 
lightly and gaily about the room, whistling and snapping her 
fingers in time with the zvaltz.) 

TOM : — (Opening the indow and calling outside) — Hi ! (Pause. 
The waits continues) — Hi! — you there! Stop that racket! Stop 
it this minute ! (The waits breaks off in the middle of a phrase) — 
We don't allow any Italian mountebanks in the neighborhood of 
this church and if you don' t^( Suddenly spluttering with rage) — 
Take that monkey off my gate! 

RITA: — Monk-ee? — (She runs up to the window and calls 
gaily outside) — Bon giorno, amico! (Tom stands petrified, staring 
at her) — Che tesaro di una scinietta avete! Come si chiamo? 
(Slight pause) — He in? Tomasso — ? (To Tom) — You an' de 
monk'ee 'ave de same name ! — (Calling outside) — Quanti anni baf 
(Slight pause. Then to Tom) — 'E is two year 'ol. (Calling) — 
Ha delle pulcif (Slight pause) — Davvero? (To Tom)—'E use 
to 'ave de flea, but now 'eat dem all. 

TOM -.—(Much annoyed)— ReaWy. I— 

RITA: — (Suddenly struck zvith an idea and calling outside with 
mysterious importance) — Aspettate un momento — voglio forti vede*' 
qualch' casta! (She runs across the room, picks up her own 
monkey and returns to the zvindow) — I make ac-quainted Tom- 
masso vid Adelina ! 

TOM : — (Trying to stop her) — Please, madame — remember my 
parishioners — 

RITA: — (Holding up Adelina at the window and calling out- 
side) — Ecco — / Tommasso, questa e Adelina — siete compatrioti! 
(To Adelina) — Sii carina e saluta Tommasso — colla tua minina — 
(Waving a hand for her) — Brava — costi! 

^TOM : — (Angrily) — Tell him to go away, do you hear? Tell 
him to away immediately ! 



36 ROMANCE. 



RITA: — (To Tom) — All r-r-right — give me de money — 
TOM: — (Meekly taking out his purse) — Will ten cents do? 
RITA : — Qveck — qveck, befor-re 'e go avay ! — (She snatches the 
purse out of his hand and throws it out the window, calling as 
she does so) — Buona fine e huon' principio, amico! (Waving her 
handkerchief) — Arrivrderci! (She smiles and kisses her hand at 
him.) 

TOM : — (Coldly) — You talk to that man as if you'd known him 
all your life ! 

RITA: — (Turning away from the window with a little sigh 
and shrug) — Ah, ve bot' make de music ! (Suddenly seeing the 
daguerrotype on the desk) — Who is dat young lady? 
TOM:— That's my mother.— (Slight pause.) 
RITA : — You let me look at 'er — ye-es ? 

TOM : — Of course. — (She takes up the picture very tenderly 
and studies it.) 

RITA:— (Softly)— Oh, she is bee-eau-ti-ful ! 
TOM : — (Coming up and looking at it over her shoulder) — 
That was taken before she was married. My father always had 
it on his dressing table. 

RITA: — (Always gazing at the picture) — I t'ink you look like 
'er. 

TOM : — (Looking at it, too) — She died when I was fifteen. It 
was my first winter at boarding school. She'd come up to see me 
only two weeks before and brought me this — (Picking up a small, 
worn book from desk) — ]\Iy little Testament. I'd expected a 
fruit cake — you can imagine how I felt I But now — (He brushes it 
lovingly) — there's nothing else I value quite so much ! 

RITA : — (Whispering) — She look — like she 'old somet'ing in 'er 
'ear-r-rt — somet'ing dat make 'er 'app-ee — an' dat no vone know — 
(Slight pause) — Per'aps — per'aps it is de t'ought vone day she 
'ave a son — like you — (Tom has crossed the room and is unlocking 
a drazver in the corner cabinet — right, back.) 

RITA : — (Under her breath, to the picture) — For-rgive — (She 
kisses it, then puts it back carefully on desk.) 

TOM : — (Returning with a little box) — There's something here 
I've been meaning to show you — (He is opening the box and is 
fumbling about in it) — I keep it in this box with mother's little 
souvenirs — (He has taken out a tiny, shabby little shoe and put it 
on the desk to get it out of the way.) — Where on earth — (Sud- 
denly) — Oh, yes! Now — (He takes out a small package done up 
carefully in tissue paper.) 

RITA: — (Undoing package and taking out tiny shoe) — Oh! — 
(Reading from card she finds inside) — "First shoe worn by my 
son. Thomas Armstrong — June seex — eighteen 'undred and t'irtv- 
eight." 

TOM:— (Glancing at it) — That? Oh. that's my first shoe. 
Let's see — I must have been three months old ! 

RITA: — (Half laughing, half crying) — An' she 'ave keep it 
mit 'soch care — (She cannot go on.) — 

TOM : — (Half apologetic) — She did that because she was very 
sentimental. 

RITA: — (Bursting out) — She did it because she lo-ove you — 
such a much ! 

TOM : — Here's what I really wanted to show you, though. (He 



ROMANCE. 37 



is unwrapping the little package he has been holding in his hand.) 
Now! Look at those! 

RITA : — (Looking) — A necklace — ear-rings — 

TOM : — They were father's wedding present ! (He holds up 
the necklace — // is made of seed pearls and has a locket) — 
There! isn't that pretty? 

RITA : — (Admi4'ingly) — Oh, mos' bee-auti-ful ! 

TOM : — There's one of my baby pictures in the locket. (Try- 
ing to open it) — I wonder how — oh, yes, I remember — you press 
the back and then it opens — there ! (He gives her the locket. She 
takes it eagerly, looks at it, glances at him, then breaks out into 
irrepressible laughter) — What's the matter? 

RITA: — (Trying to control herself) — You are so — so fat! • 

TOM : — (Frowning) — Fat — f 

RITA: — You 'ave such beeg cheek — just like dis — (She puffs 
up her own cheeks, loses her breath and starts laughing again.) 

TOM : — (Severely) — I believe I was considered a very beau- 
tiful baby ! 

RITA: — You are de mos' funn-ee baby ] ever see in all mv 
life! 

TOM : — (Defending himself hotly) — Well, my nurse didn't 
think so! She kissed me once till she raised a blister — there! 
(H.e puts his hands in his pockets and turns proudly away.) 

RITA:— (Startled)— Yhat? Oh, my Lor-r-rd ! (She goes off 
again.) 

TOM : — (Interrupting, in rage) — Oh, very well. I'm sorry I 
showed it to you ! I might have known that — 

RITA : — (Interrupting) — Ah, don't be ang-ree ! 

TOM: — (Not turning) — I'm not angry! 

RITA: — So? Den von' you tur-rn your 'ead — please? (Slight 
pause) — I go avay tomorr-r-row ! (Slight pause) — Mebbe I navair-r 
come back ! (Long pause — then dreamily) — I t'ink you are de mos' 
bee-auti-ful bab-ee in de whole vor-r-rld ! 

TOM:— (Loftily)— l<^o, you don't either. 

RITA:— (Eagerly)— Si— si! It is tr-r-rue ! (Softly to the 
picture) — So good-bye, leetle fat boy — good bye — good-bye ! (She 
kisses it twice.) 

TOM : — (Turning and seeing her) — Thank you. 

RITA : — (Shutting the locket) — Dat vas for-r 'im — my f rien' — 
not you ! ( She holds out the necklace for him to take.) 

TOM: — (Embarrassed) — Er — don't you want to keep him then? 

RITA:— Keep 'im— ? 

TOM : — Yes, and the necklace, too. I wish — I mean I hope 
you will. 

RITA : — But it is your mother's — 

TOM :— (Eagerly)— I know— that's why ! 

RITA :— But she vould not like it— 

TOM : — (A little pompously) — Of course 1 realize how you 
feel about accepting presents of jewelry from men, but I think in 
this case — it's — er — quite all right ! — (Her hand has gone instinctively 
to her string of pearls.) — What are you doing? 

RITA : — (Unclasping her own pearls) — I make for-r it de 
place ! (She drops her string of pearls on the desk.) 

, TOM : — (Heartily) — Aha ! I knew you would ! (Giving her the 
rest of the package) — Here ! take the ear-rings, too ! 



38 ROMANCE. 



RITA: — (With tender enthnsiasni) — Dio mio ! dey are so 
lo-ovelee ! 

TOM : — Can you see to put them on ? (By this time the room 
is filled zvith twilight shadows. The firelight is warm and mellow.) 

RITA: — (At mirror— right) — Oh, ye-es, I can see! — (She takes 
off her own ear-rings, lays them on the mantle-piece and begins 
putting on his ear-rings and necklace. He wa^tches her.) 

TOM: — You know how it clasps? 

RITA : — (Busy with necklace) — Y-es, it is all r-r-right 
(Finishing it, and turning gaily to him) — Ecco! Are dey not be- 
com-ing? (He does not answer) — Vhy you look at me like dat? 
Vhat v^u t'ink of — hein ? 

TOM: — (Simply) — 1 was just thinking how mother would have 
loved you. 

RITA:— Ye-es? 

TOM : — She loved anything that was beautiful and sweet and 
good. And then your music, that would have interested her so 
much ! She was musical, too, vou know ! 

RITA:— Is dat so? 

TOM : — (Continuing) — Yes, that's why I kept her piano when 
the Worth Street house was sold. I put it over there — so when 
I'm writing sermons and get all mixed up, I can just look at it 
and imagine I'm eight years old again and hear her dear voice 
singing "Annie Laurie." 

RITA :— r^o/^/j';— "An-nie Laur-ee?" 

TOM : — That was her favorite song. (Hesitating) — 1 wish — I 
wish you'd sing it once — before you go. 

RITA : — I tell you vhat — / play an' you will sing ! 

TOM : — (Embarrassed) — But I can't — I haven't any voice— 

RITA: — Come — vhere is it — in dis boo-ook? (She takes up 
one of the bound volumes of music lying on the piano.) 

TOM : — No — the big one underneath — page 27 — but really — it's 
foolish — the idea of my trying to — 

RITA : — (Finding it) — Ah ! Now light de candle, please. 
(She puts the volume on the rack.) 

TOM : — (Lighting a long paper "spill" from fire and from it 
lighting the candles on either side of the key-board) — It goes up 
to E — that's pretty high, you know. Of course I wouldn't mind 
if you weren't a professional — (Taking up his position by her side) 
— Give me the note when you come to it. 

'RITA:— (Playing the 'little prelude)— Is dat too fas'? 

TOM : — A little bit — that's better ! (She strikes the note and 
pauses, glancing up at him. He hesitates) — Just wait till I clear 
my throat — (He coughs) — It's so long since I've sung ! Now I'm 
ready — go ahead ! (He sings, she "conducting" him with her head 
and one hand zvhenever possible.) 

"Maxwelton braes are bonnie 
Where early fa'as the dew. 
And it's there — " 

(.lust here Roger opens the door at back.) 

ROGER : — I beg pardon, sir. The Deaconesses. 

TOM:— Get rid of 'em! 

ROGER:— What, sir? 

TOM:— (Impatiently)— ] said get rid of 'em! (Roger bows 
and goes out. closing the door. Tom resumes the song.) 



ROMANCE. 39 



And it's there that Annie Laurie 
Gie'd me her answer true." 

(Clearing his throat and speaking) — Here's where it goes up. — 
{Resuming) — 

"Gie'd me her promise true 

Which ne'er forgot will be, 

And for bonnie Annie Laurie, 

I'd lay me down and dee." 

RITA ; — (Softly, not looking up at him) — It is a song of lo-ove! 

TOM : — Yes. But I never knew it until now ! Do you know 
wh) ? 

RITA :— No— tell me! 

TOM : — Because I never knew — what love was — until now. 

RITA : — (Sadly) — An' vhat is lo-ove — to you ? — (She plays a 
little, idly, as she watches him.) 

TOM : — (Leaning on the piano) — It's finding the woman you 
want to live with all your life — the woman who'll show you the 
right way and follow it with you — side by side — shoulder to 
shoulder — making all the good things seem a little better — and 
all the hard things — well, not quite so hard ! It's knowing she'll 
be with you at your journey's end — when you're old — and she's 
old — and you can smile and look into each other's eyes and say: 
"We've done our work together, dear — and I think we've done 
it well." 

RITA : — (After a little pause, her eyes full of tears) — Oh, my 
frien'. dat lo-ove — it is for-r some, ye-es — but it is not for-r me. 

TOM :— I don't understand— 

RITA: — (Wistfully and tenderly) — For-r me, love is jost a 
leetle light in all dis dar-rk-ness — a leetle varmt' in all dis col' — 
a leetle flame dat bur-rn — not long an' den go out. A star dat 
come — an' is so bee-eau-tiful it breeng beeg tears an' vhen ve dry 
de eyes an' look again — de star is gone. I t'ink it is to be a 
leetle 'appier togeder den ve are par-r-rt — vone meenute and to 
lie steel in de beloved's ar-r-rm — vone leetle meenute to forget, 
my frien' an' dat is all ! 

TOM : — (Brokenly) — My dear ! (He comes swiftly to her and 
puts his hands on her shoulders. ) — (He draws her to him and 
holds her tightly in his arms.) 

RITA:— Oh, vhat you do? 

TOM : — (Pressing her to him) — I love you ! 

RITA :— Don'— " 

TOM : — (Interrupting) — And vou love me. Now say it — 

RITA ■.—(Piteously)—^o— 

TOM : — (Through his teeth) — You must — 

RITA: — (Throwing her arms about his neck in deep abandon) 
— All r-r-right — / lo-ve you — .' Now ve are alone — you 'ear — an' 
dere is nodings in de vor-rld but you an' me — Dis is our time — 
our leetle meenute dat vill nevair come again — so shut your eyes — 
an' 'old me close — an' lo-ove — 

TOM:— But, dear, I— 

RITA: — (Putting her mouth to his) — Ssh ! (A long kiss. 
Pause. They stand motionless, locked in each other's arms. And 
Just here from the parish house next door comes the sound of 
an organ and men's voices singing "Ein Teste Burg" — all very 
faip,t and far away.) 



40 ROMANCE. 



RITA:— M/ last)— Vhsit is dat? 

TOM: — It's just the choir — they're practicing for tonight — I 
love 3^ou. 

RITA : — (Closing her eyes) — A-ah I 

TOM: — When will you marry me? (She slowly disengages 
herself from him and turns away.) 

RITA : — (Almost to herself) — I 'ave not t'ink de en' vould be 
so soon ! 

TOM: — (Eagerly) — When — please tell me when? 

RITA : — Ask me anodder time — no, nevair ask me — it is jest 
not possible — 

TOM: — But what's the matter? I don't understand! 

RITA: — (Defending herself) — Vhy you in such a 'urr-ee? 
You mus' vait ! 

TOM : — (Coming nearer her) — I'd wait forever — if there's 
any hope. 

RITA: — (Retreating) — Please don' come near — 

TOM:— There is hope— isn't there? 

RITA : — No — no — I 'ave make vone beeg meestake I 

TOM:— What— ? 

RITA: — I t'ink I 'ave been mad for jost vone leetle vhile, but 
now — I cannot marr-ee you. Good bye. (She goes towards door. 
He stops her.) 

TOM:— Why not? 

RITA:— Oh, let me go! 

TOM :— Not till you've told me whv. 

RITA: — Can you not on'erstan' vhat is so plain an' clear? 
Your frien's — dey know — de night I meet you you 'ave see de 
young men look at me — 

TOM : — Rita — .' (He stands paralyzed with sudden suspicion.) 

RITA : — Dey know vhy I can navair marr-ee you — de whole 
vor-rld knows — (Her voice softening) — an' now I t'ink if you 
don' min' — I go avay. 

TOM : — (Very tenderly) — No, my dear — not yet. (He leads 
her to settee by fire) — I think — I think you have something to 
tell me. 

RITA : — 1 cannot — no — please do not ask — 

TOM : — (Al-iixiys tender) — I'm not going to ask — I'm just 
going to sit here and hold your hand and listen. (He takes her 
hand) — That's what I'm here for, you know — just to help people 
when they're in trouble and need a friend. 

RITA : — You are so goo-ood ! 

TOM : — No. I'm not, but you'll find I'm very sympathetic. 
Why, I remember one day last week — Tuesday, it was, that a 
little tenement girl named McDougal, came in to see me. We 
sat here just as we are sitting now and after a while she told me 
all about it. She was going to be married the next day to a young 
carpenter over on 8th Street — but there was something she hadn't 
told him — poor child I She didn't dare. She'd been — treated badly 
by some brute of man when she was only sixteen years old. Of 
course he'd left her — and she tried to put together the pieces of 
her life and go on with her work — and then she met the car- 
penter and fell in love and was going to marry him — and at the 
last moment her conscience began troubling her — so she came to 
me. 



ROMANCE. 41 



RITA :— An'— vhat did you tell 'er? 

TOM: — Oh, I didn't say much! I just suggested things here 
and there — and in the end — God bless her ! She made up her mind 
to do the right thing. 

RITA:— De r-r-right— ? 

TOM : — She went home and told him all about it. 

RITA:— An' den—? 

TOM : — (Cheerfully) — He was a decent sort of fellow and he 
loved her — so of course he understood — and — well, I married them 
Wednesday morning and now they're two of the happiest people 
in New York ! 

RITA: — An' vould yon — feel dat vay, too? 

TOM:— Me? 

RITA: — If somevone dat you lo-ove — (Quickly) — no, don't 
look at me ! (Resuming) — if somevone dat you lo-ove come an' 
say "I am not goo-od — I must tell you now because ve lo-ove each 
oder ! You are de fir-r-rst man I 'ave ever lo-ove — you are de 
fir-r-rst man I 'ave ever tol' !" 

TOM:— Well? 

RITA: — Could you for-give 'er — Meestair Tom? 

TOM : — (Brokenly, as he catches her in his arms) — You poor 
little child! 

RITA : — (Wailing) — No — no — you do not on'erstan' — it is I who 
am not goo-ood — 

TOM : — (Soothing her) — There, darling, there ! Don't cry — 
it's all right — you've been fair and brave and honest — you've told 
me and I forgive you from the bottom of my heart ! 

RITA:— (Still sobbing)— Oh— \ Oh! I do not see 'ow it is 
possible — no, I do not see — I don' — I don' — 

TOM: — Why not? It was a long time ago, wasn't it? When 
you were poor and struggling and lonely — you didn't know any- 
thing about the world — how could you? And you had to live — 

RITA :— Yes— oh, yes— 

TOM: — But you mustn't think of it any more! You must just 
remember how afterwards you pulled yourself together and raised 
your head and said to yourself, "I may have sinned, but that's all 
over — and from now on I'm going to be a good woman ! I'm going 
to turn the rest of my life into a splendid, beautiful thing! I 
won't stop until I can be proud of myself !" And oh, my dear — 
I'm so glad — I'm so glad that you can be now ! 

RITA: — An' is dat vhv vou can for-give me? 

TOM:— Is what, dear?" 

RITA: — Because it 'appen — so long ago? 

TOM : — (With a touch of his profession) — I naturally believe 
that all sins, finished and truly repented of, should be forgiven 
by every Christian man or woman. (Pause.) 

RITA : — (Gently, releasing herself) — I see — I see ! — (She rises 
and walks away.) 

TOM: — (With an effort to shake off all these ugly tilings) — 
And now that everything's cleared up between us, do you know 
what we're going to do? 

RITA:— No. Tell me. 

TOM : — (Smiling) — Go right upstairs, of course, and announce 
our engagement to Aunt Emma and Mr. Van Tuyl. Come on! 

RITA : — (Instinctively) — No — no — not now — 



42 ROMANCE. 



TOM:— What— ? 

RITA : — Vait a leetle — vait until tomorr-row — 

TOM : — But vou're sailing tomorrow ! 

RITA :— Ye-es— dat is vhy— 

TOM: — (Smiling) — Nonsense I If you don't look out, I'll be- 
gin to think you're ashamed of me! Come along! — (He puts his 
arm about her waist.) 

RITA : — (Holding backf — No. 1 say. — it is too soon — I am not 
r-r-ready — ve mus' vait — 

TOM:— Wait? What for? 

RITA : — Mebbe — mebbe dey do not like it vhen ve tell dem ! 

TOM : — Now don't you bother about Aunt Emma ! She — 

RITA: — (Interrupting) — Ah, no! I do not bodder about 'er! 
Bvii— (She stops.) 

TOM: — It surely isn't Mr. Van Tuyl that's worrying you? 
Why, he's my oldest friend — and father's and mother's too. He's 
just like one of the family ! Of course we must tell him right 
off! 

RITA:— Vhy don' you let me tell 'im? 

TOM:— What? 

RITA : — To-night — vhen 1 can see 'im all alone ! — (Eagerly) — 
Oh, please — please let me tell 'im ! 

TOM:— But why? What's the matter? 

RITA: — If ve tell 'im now, 'e vill be so angr-ee I 

TOM: — Nonsense! And even if he is, we don't care! 

RITA : — 'E vill say t'ings about me — oh yes, 'e vill I 

TOM : — But he doesn't know anything about you. — (She 
doesn't answer. He repeats in a different tone) — Rita, he doesn't 
know anything about you, does he? 

RITA : — No — I mean — not ver' much — 

TOM:— What— ? 

RITA : — lost a leetle — I tell 'im a leetle vone night in Paris — 

TOM : — You don't mean — what you've told mef — 

RITA : — Yes, an' so if ve go upstairs now an' — 

TOM: — (Interrupting) — But you said just a minute ago that 
I was the only man you'd ever told — because I was the only man 
you'd ever loved ! 

"RITA:— (Frightened)— I 'ave forgot— oh, it vas two— t'ree 
years ago — 

TOM : — (Thinking) — But wait ! He's talked to me very openly 
about you — why, only last Saturday when I went to see him about 
the new gymnasium — 

RITA:— Vhat— ? 

TOM : — He used possible argument — except that one. Why, he 
never said so much as a word against — 

RITA:— I know. I— I ask 'im not to. 

TOM : — (More and more surprised) — You — ? But — but he 
woiildn't take your side where I'm involved — why, it's incredible ! 

RITA : — Oh, ye-es, 'e vould — you do not know ! 

TOM:— But why—? 

RITA:— (Fighting for time)— Vhy— ? 

TOM : — Yes — there must be a reason. 

RITA:— Can you not guess? 

TOM:— No. Tell me— 



ROMANCE. 43 



RITA: — It is because — oh, long ago, you on'erstan' — 'e vas 
foolish enough to like me — jost a leetle — 

TOM :—What—? 

RITA : — (Quickly) — It was not my fault — I cannot 'elp it vhen 
peoples — 

TOM: — (Interrupting) — When was this? 

RITA : — Oh, two — t'ree year ago I I did my bes' t' stop 'im — 
but it vas not easy — I tell you dat ! 

TOM: — (Interrupting) — Did he want you to marry him? 

RITA : — (Trying to speak lightly) — No — no — it was nodings — • 
nodings — at all — 'e jost like to sen' me flowers an' 'ear me sing 
an' — 

TOM: — (Interrupting) — How long did his attentions last? 

RITA:— I— I dunno. 

TOM : — (Going towards her) — You mean he's in love with you 
stilir 

RITA: — (With abandon) — Oh, Hon' talk about dat any more! 
Jost take me in your ar-rms an' keess me till — 

TOM : — (Interrupting) — And you knew he felt that way — you 
knew it all this time? 

RITA:— Yes— I knew— 

TOM: — Then why didn't you tell me? 

RITA: — I did not t'ink you vould — like it. 

TOM : — Like it ! Why, it was all right ! He can't help loving 
you, I spupose. There isn't anything to conceal — (Stopping sud- 
denly) — Rita, there isn't anvthing to conceal? 

RITA:— Vhat— ? 

TOM : — Tell me there isn't — tell me — 

RITA : — (Retreating) — I don't know vhat vou mean — 

TOM :— Quick— for the love of God! 

RITA:— Don' look at me— 

TOM:— Not Mr. Van Tuyl?— .Vof he—f 

RITA : — (Terrified) — Please — oh, please — 

TOM -.—(With a sudden cry)— Oh— ! 

RITA:— (Frantically) — It is not true! I say it is not true! 

TOM:— What— ? 

RITA : — Dere 'as been nodings — you make vone terr-rible 
meestake — 

TOM:— How do I know? 

RITA :— (Striking her breast)— I tell you — I— 

TOM : — But vou kept back something before — 

RITA :— No— 

TOM : — How do I know you're not doing it again ? 

RITA:— No— I am not! I tell you I am not! 

TOM:— (Pulling himself together)— Ssh-ht quiet! They'll 
hear you upstairs. (His voice shaking) — Now we must be calm, 
both of us, quite calm and sensible We must settle this matter 
here, once and for all. If it's true. 1 — I beg of you — for both our 
sakes — as you will answer on the Day of Judgment — I beg you to 
tell me now ! (Pause.) 

RITA: — If I say "Yes, it is true!" would you — would you 
again forgive me? 

TOM :—(lVith a cry)— Ah— \ then it u— it is— 

RITA :— (Wildly)— l<lo— no— 

TOM : — You've said it — I heard you say it — 



44 ROMANCE. 



RITA :— Dat is not so ! 

TOM:— Well, didn't vou— ? 

RITA :— No— no— no ! (Pause.) 

TOM:— Will you swear it? 

RITA: — Ye-es — I vill svear. 

TOM : — Put vour hand here — on mv mother's testament. 

RITA:— (Obeying him)— So? 

TOM : — And look me in the eve and sav after me — 

RITA:— Ye-es? 

TOM : — "I swear there has been nothing between Mr, Van 
Tuvl and me." i 

RITA -.—(Faintlx^— Oh ! Madonna ! 

TOM:— Swear it— 

RITA:— (Opening her ^v^^j— Vhat? 

TOM:— You won't—? 

RITA: — I svear dere 'as been — vhat you say? noding wrong 
between — (She sways a little) — Meestere Van Tuyl an' me. 

TOM : — (With a sob of relief, as he catches her in his arms) — 
Oh, my darling — forgive me — I've been a brute to doubt you — I'm — 
(Suddenly) — What's the matter? Rita — Rita — (Her head has fallen. 
She has fainted. He carries her over to the settee, lays her on 
it, runs to the desk, pours out a glass of water, returns with it, 
kneels by her side and tries to make her drink.) — My poor little 
girl — there — it's all right — I'm never going to bother you again — 
forgive me — oh, my darling, just forgive me this once — (She is 
gradually reviving, under his caresses and endearment — I was out 
of my head — I didn't know what I was saying — please — please — 
(She sits up dizzily) — What's the matter? Aren't you going to 
speak to me — ? (She rises unsteadily to her feet) — Rita! (He 
takes her hand.) 

RITA : — (Interrupting) — I vant to go avay — you don' believe 
me — you don' lo-ove me — 

TOM : — Yes, I do ! I love you more than anything in the 
world — I love you and I'm going to marry you — 

RITA: — (With passion) — Vhy you make me svear dose t'ings? 
Vhy you make me — ? 

TOM : — Forgive me, dear — please — 

RITA:— Good bye. 

TOM :— No, wait ! (He stops her at door, taking both her 
hands) — 

RITA : — I say — good bye ! (He stares into her face. Her 
eyes drop) — Oh, let me go please! I mus' r-r-retur-rn to de 
hotel — it is so late — you know I al-vays sleep before I sing an' — 
(Suddenly) — vhat for you look at me like dat? — (Trying to pull 
herself from him) — Let go, I say— /^/ go! 

TOM : — (Trying to control himself) — I believed you when you 
swore just now — I want it understood that I believed you — 

RITA:— Veil? 

TOM : — So— if you don't mind— I think— I think— I'll ask Mr. 
Van Tuyl to come down here — 

RITA:— Vhat— ? 

TOM : — And then we'll tell him — we're engaged. 

RITA : — (In sudden fright) — Ah no — no — don' do dat. . 

TOM : — (With sudden wildness, pulling the bell-rope violently) 
— Not a minute ! Not a second ! 



ROMANCE. 45 



RITA :— Please— 
TOM:— I won't! 
RITA :— No— no— 

TOM: — Oh, my God — (Pause — a knock) — (Enter Roger.) 
ROGER:— You ring, sir? 

TOM : — Yes. Please ask Mr. Van Tuyl to step down here, 
please. Tell him I'll keep him only a moment. 
ROGER: — Very good, sir. (Exit Roger.) 
RITA : — (As the door closes) — Ver' veil. I vill not stay. 
TOM : — (Before door) — You've got to. 
RITA : — Remembair my perfor-r-rmance. 

TOM : — (Snapping his fingers) — I don't give that for your per- 
formance ! 

RITA: — 'E come — I 'ear 'im — (In desperation) — O, let me go! 
TOM -.—(As if struck) — Rita— don't tell me you're afraid — 
RITA: — Oh, let me see 'im fir-r-rst — for jost vone leetle mee- 
nute — it vill be all r-r-right — 

TOM : — (His suspicions returning) — I won't — 
RITA: — (Shrugging her shoulders) — Ver' veil. I don' care — 
I 'ave done my bes' ! 

(She sits down at the piano and begins playing a brilliant Chopin 
waits. The door opens and Van Tuyl appears.) 

VAN TUYL:— (Genially as he enters)— Ah— \ Still here? We 
thought you'd — (Noticing Tom's face) — Why, what's the matter, 
Tom? (Rita stops and sits at the piano, looking at the two men.) 

TOM : — (Trying to speak naturally) — Nothing, sir. I asked you 
to come down because — I wanted you to be the first to know of 
my good luck. 

VAN TUYL:— Good luck? 

TOM : — Yes. Madame Cavillini has been good enough to — 
(Briefly) — We're engaged. 

VAN TUYL: — (In an expressionless voice) — Engaged? 
TOM : — (Harshly) — Yes — engaged — engaged to be married — 
(Pause.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Calmly) — My dear boy, I congratulate you. 
TOM :— (Choking)— V^'hd^f^ 

VAN TUYL: — I congratulate you. Madame Cavillini stands 
alone, as I have always said. And while I confess I am — a bit 
surprised. I am flattered — (Turning to her with a bow) — that she 
has chosen one of my friends and countrymen for this great honor. 
TOM: — Then it's alright — ? You approve — you give your 
consent? 

VAN TVYL:— (Turning to him)— Consent? 
TOM: — Yes — for the parish, I mean — represented by yourself 
as senior warden and chairman of the vestry. 

VAN TUYL : — Most certainly, my dear boy. You know you 
can alwavs count on me to wish you every happiness. 

TOM :— (Baffled)— Why, you talk— as if you liked it— 
VAN TUYL:— (Not understanding) — I don't quite— 
TOM : — (Interrupting) — All I can say is, you must have changed 
vour mind since Saturday. 

VAN TUYL:— Since Saturday? 

TOM : — Why, don't you remember warning me with tears in 
your eyes to keep away from this — this lady — 

VAN TUYL :— ("^miVin^^;- Ah, that was Saturday! 



46 ROMANCE. 



TOM : — (InterruptingJ — And now, sir — I — I want to ask you 
here — before us both — if vou were absolutely frank on Saturday — 

VAX TUYL:— What's that? 

TOM : — (His voice almost breaking) — If there were any argu- 
ment against my — my attachment which you did not see fit to offer 
at the time — 

TOM: — If there was, sir, tell it now — tell it for God's sake — or 
else forever after hold your peace I (Pause.) 

VAN TUYL : — I don't see why you're so excited — but if it gives 
you any satisfaction to know I said all I could on Saturday — 

TOM:— (QuicklyJ— You held nothing back? 

VAN TUYL: — Why, no— of course not I What's the matter, 
Tom? (Tom turns away in silent agony. Rita makes a sudden 
movement. Van Tuyl suppresses her with a glance. A moment's 
pause. Tom faces them again, controlling himself with diMculty.) 

TOM : — Sit down, sir, please. 

VAN TUYL:— (Doing so)—\\tn? 

TOM : — (With difficulty) — I — I want to apologize beforehand 
for what I'm going to say. I know I'm acting outrageously — but — 
I can't help it ! (Mr. Van Tuyl makes a movement towards him) — 
No, wait ! You're my best friend, Mr. Van Tuyl — (To Rita) — and 
you're the woman I want to make my wnfe — so I — I'm sure you'll 
both of you be sympathetic and make — allowance for me. 

VAN TUYL : — (Heartily) — Of course, my boy, of course ! 

TOM : — (Still with difficulty) — Madame Cavallini has been very 
frank and open with me, sir. She's just told me — about certain 
portions of her career — and of course, knowing as I do, how hard 
it is for girls when they're poor and young — and alone — why, I 
should be only too glad to tell her it's all right and blot it out from 
my memory forever — but — but — (He pauses, unable to go on, then 
rises, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands and leaning 
over it, haggard and terrible) — Before I can do that there's one 
thing I've got to be sure of — 

VAN TUYL:— Yes, Tom? 

TOM : — It seems — you've been an admirer of hers for some 
time — (As Van Tuyl glances at her involuntarily) — For God's sake. 
don't look at her now! And what I've got — to be sure of is that— 
there never has been anything — you know — between you two — 

VAN TUYL:— What— :' 

TOM : — (Going on very quickly) — I've asked her and she's de- 
nied it — and I believe her — implicitly, of course — but if — you'll be 
good enough to deny it, too — oh. merely as a matter of form ! — 
why, I — I shall be much obliged. Well? 

VAN Tl]YL:—(After a slight pause)— There s one thing I'm 
not going to denv— and that is my very deep and very true afifection 
for Madame Cavallini. (Looking at her)— It is a sentiment none 
the less deep and true because it has lived for years with no re- 
sponse from her— and I am proud of my hope and my belief that it 
will continue so long as I'm alive to cherish it. (Turning to Tom)— 
As for the rest of your question. Tom, when you're yourself agam 
you'll agree with me that it deserves no answer. Good-bye. (To 
her)— Good-hy^, Madame— I offer you the best of wishes— (He is 
turning toward the door when Tom stops him.) 

XOM -.—(Seising his hand)—Ko, wait— you shan't go until I've 



ROMANCE. 47 



begged your pardon — I've been a fool, sir — a perfect fool, but if you 
can I want you to forgive me ! 

VAN TUYL : — Don't you think, my boy, you'd better ask 
Madame Cavallini's pardon first? 

TOM : — (Turning to her) — Rita, darling — 1 don't know just 
what to say — but I think if you forgive me again — I can promise 
I'll never — never — you do forgive me, dear — don't you? Please — 
oh, please. 

RITA : — (Suddenly pulling herself away) — No — no — I cannot ! 
It is too much — 

TOM:— What? 

RITA : — (Straightening herself up and looking at him) — I 1-ove 
vou — I mus' spik de trut — 

VAN TUYL:— Be quiet! 

RITA : — (To Tom) — It is all lies vhat ve 'ave said — all 
lies — lies! 

TOM : — (Crying aloud) — No — no — 

RITA : — I vas 'is mistr-ress till the night 1 meet you ! 

TOM :— Not Mr. Van Tuyl— not— r/Za chokes.) 

VAN TUYL : — Tom, listen to me for one minute — 

TOM : — (Turning to him) — You thief — liar — 

VAN TUYL:— For God's sake, Tom, don't— 

TOM -.—(With a cry)—A-dh ! (He rushes at Van Tuyl to strike 
him down, but she stands before him.) 

RITA : — (Gasping) — 'E lied for me — I tell you 'e lied for me — 
(Pause. Tom stands fighting for his control. He regains it, ex- 
hausted, and turns to the desk.) 

TOM : — (In a whisper) — Please go — both of you — (He stoops to 
pick up the little Testament which has dropped to the floor, brushes 
it involuntarily and puts it on desk.) 

VAN TUYL : — Tom, I'd have given everything I have in the 
world to have spared you this. I want you to remember that — 
if you can — (Going tozvards him) — Tom, I — 

TOM :— Don't ! 

VAN TVYL:— (Half to himself)— Good-bye. (He goes out 
quicklv. Tom sits down slowly in his desk chair.) 
GAL— FIFTEEN— TOWER 

RITA : — (After trying once or twice to find her voice) — Mee- 
stairs — Meestairs Tom — (He shudders at the sound. She goes to 
mirror, right, takes off his mother's ear-rings and necklace, kisses 
locket and lays them on mantlepiece. Then she takes up her own 
jeivels, puts on her coat, picks up her muff and monkey from chair 
where she left them earlier in act.) (Softly to the monkey) — Basta 
basta — povrina mia ! (She stands looking at Tom. He makes no 
sign.) 

RITA: — (At last, very simply) — T'ank you — for 'aving lo-oved 
me ! (She drops her veil and goes out. As he hears the door close 
he has a few seconds of gasping for breath. Then burying his face 
in his arms, he breaks into racking, convulsive silent sobs. From 
far away comes the sound of the little hand organ, still playing 
the waltz.) 



CURTAIN. 



48 ROMANCE. 



Act 3 

SCENE: 

Mmc. Cavallini's apartment at the Brevoort House, that night, 
after the performance. At right, doors leading to hall. At right- 
back, two long windows, overlooking old-fashioned balcony. At 
left-back, arch leading to bedroom, covered with drawn portieres. 
At left a smaller door. F^urther down at left is the fire-place and 
mantel, lire burning. In corner, right-back, is a grand piano, covered 
with a confusion of music, hats, clothes, etc. Towards right-centre 
are a couch and a table. The couch is also covered with various 
clothes, personal articles, etc. Between the two windows is a perch 
on which sit, side by side, two stately scarlet macaws. Near the 
fire is the monkey's cradle — a charming cloud of lace and pale blue 
satin. There are several open trunks lying about the room in 
various stages of completed packing. Clothes of all descriptions are 
strewn about in the greatest disorder everywhere. The whole effect 
of the room is luxurious, yet filled with confusion and a sense of 
Bohemian life. 

DISCOVERED: 

When the curtain goes up, it is night. The gas is lit. Before 
the fire squats SIGNORA VANNUCCI — a fat, untidy old Italian 
woman with a moustache and long ear-rings, dressed very gaily, 
her skirts pinned up, a pair of old soiled pink satin slippers on her 
feet. She is telling her fortune with a pack of greasy cards, stop- 
ping every now and then to turn and stir two saucepans which are 
cooking over the fire. 

SIG. VAN. : — (To herself) — O Dio mio I Non importa — riprov- 
iamo — ! (She gives the saucepan a stir, shuffles and deals.) II 
dieci di quardri — A-ha-he ! Posso ancora esser ricca — (She laughs 
to herself. There if a knock at the door) — Avanti! 

(Enter ADOLPH, an old German waiter, carrying a tray with 
plates, napkins, glasses, bowl of salad, etc.) — You gotta da garlic 
— yes ? 

ADOLPH : — (Putting dozvii tray) — Two liddle beeces. 

SIG. VAN. : — Cut dem ver' small an' put deni in vhen you maka 
da salad. 

ADOLPH : — Madame, she vill be hungry when she back conies 
from de opera. 

SIG. VAN. : — She eats nodings before she go — she dreenka a 
leetle vine an' coffee, dat is all. 

ADOLPH: — Ach ! no great artiste will eat before she sing! 
Do I not know? Have I not de first tenor of de Royal Court Opera 
of de city of Steichenblatter been? Do I not remember how I 
feel vhen — 

SIG. VAK.:—(Gloo)nily interrupting him) — You 'ave forgotta 
da cheese. 

ADOLPH :— (Crushed)— De lieher Gott! 

SIG. VAN. : — (With a retrospective smile) — Ah. when I was 
prima donna at Bologna an maka my debut as Linda de Chamonix 
in da gr-r-reat, da bee-autiful da gala per-r-for-rmance — an' 'is — 



ROMANCE. 49 



'ow you say — 'is excellenza da duca di Modena, 'e stan' an' clapa de 
'ans an' say so loud — "Bravo, Vannucci ! Bravissimo !" 

ADOLPH ■.—(Interrupting)— Your sauce, it burn. 

5IG. VAN. : — (Rushing to fire) — Madonna santa proteggetecit 
(She stirs the sauce vigorously.) 

ADOLPH: — (Sadly, as he mixes salad) — Ach — so! De good 
old days — dey are all gone ! 

SIG. VAN.: — (Stirring) — Da opera now — vhat is eet? Vone 
beeg noise! 

ADOLPH :— Dis "Faust" an' "Mignon"— 

SIG. VAN.: — (Covering her ears) — Impossibili! 

ADOLPH ■.—Schreklich—! 

SIG. VAN. :—Orribili! 

ADOLPH -.—Ungeheuer! 

SIG. VAN. -.—(Kissing her hand)—Ua "la Favorita !" 

ADOLPH -.— •Der Freischutz!" 

SIG. VAN.:—Bellissima! 

ADOhFH -.-Wunderschon! 

SIG. VAN. :—Celestiali! 

ADOLPH ■.—Kolqssal—! 

SIG. VAN. : — (Sighing) — But ah ! who now gotta da voice to 
seeng dem? 

ADOLPH :— (Scornfully)— U^ivio ? Bah ! 

SIG. VAN. :— (Loftily)— Grisi— ? Pouf ! 

ADOLPH: — Ginglini — ? Ein schwein — .' 

SIG. VAN. :— La Patti— ? Un putae—! 

ADOLPH:— La Cavallini— ? 

SIG. VAN. :— Ah, di la Cavallini ! 

ADOLPH : — (Patronizingly)— Sht 'ave a leedle somet'ing — 

SIG. VAN. : — Ah ! Sometime vhen I stan' in de veengs an' 'old 
'er shawl, an' leesten — I t'ink it is myself again — come back fr-rom 
long ago! 

ADOLPH:— Ach. Gott ! I. too, haf treams! An' vhen I my 
half dollar pay an' de stairs up climb an' da orchestra begin — I 
shut my eye an' yet vonce more again I am in Steichenblatter — 

SIG. VAN. :— The opera. It is "Norma" — 

ADOLPH :— I am "Pollio"— 

SIG. VAN. ■.—(With the bottle of oil in one hand)— The 
great duet — 

ADOLPH : — Act three — it come at last ! (He sings softly in 
German.) 

SIG. VAIN. : — (Rising from fire with spoon still in hand) — Piu 
forte! Cosi! Ora! Crescendo ! (She sings very dramatically in 
Italian.) (They sing the duet together in the very old-fashioned 
operatic way, tremendously in earnest. At the closing high note 
they fling themselves violently in one another's arms. Just here a 
small bell boy, in buttons, enters from right, whistling between his 
teeth. He carries a card tray, and stops — amazed at the sight.) 

BELL BOY :— Where's the madam? 

SIG. VAN. : — (Kneeling by fire and stirring) — She 'ave not yet 
r-r-return. 

BELL BOY: — There's a gent downstairs a-callin' on her — see? 
(He holds out a salver with card.) 

SIG. VAN. : — (Irritably) — Give me da car-r-rd — queeck, leetle 
animal! Queeck. I say! (The Bell Boy hands her salver.) 



50 ROMANCE. 



SIG. VAN. : — (Reading card)— A-ah ! It is milor ! 'E 'ave 
come back! Santi henedetti! (To the Bell Boy) — Go — breenga 
him in I (To Adolph) — An' leesten, my frien', a bottle of cham- 
pagne ! 

ADOLPH:— r/l'j/// tray, at i/oo/y— Champagne? 

SIG. VAN. : — (Joyously) — Da besta you got ! 

(Adolph exits. She rises^ puts card on piano, and begins un- 
pinning her skirts, etc. The hell boy profits by this to steal some 
grapes and a cake from the table. She turns and sees him.) Ah, 
demonietto! (She rushes at him with hand upraised.) 

BELL BOY: — Rag-bag I (He escapes out door — right. She 
hastily attempts to tidy the room, closes a couple of trunks, etc., 
then puts on a scarf, sticks an ostrich feather in her hair and is ad- 
miring the result in the long mirror, when the door — right — opens 
and VAN TUYL is ushered in by the Bell Boy.) 

BELL BOY:— IVIr. Van Tuyl. 

VAN TUYL: — (Entering) — Well, signora ! I haven't seen you 
for some time, have I ? You're younger and more beautiful than 
ever! 

SIG. VAN. : — (Shaking hands) — Ah, milor — you maka da joke 
as la-vays! But I don' care — I am so full of joy be-cause you 
'ave come ! 

VAN TUYL: — Thanks very much. (Looking about) — How's 
the menagerie? ,(To the parrots) — Remember me, old lady — eh? 

SIG. VAN.: — Dey are full of lo-ove for-r milor — ecco! See! 
Manrico, 'e visha to keess 'is 'and ! 

VAN TUYL :— Bite it, you mean ! (Going to fire)— Where's 
Adelina — ? (Seeing the niche) — Oh! 

SIG. VAN. : — She 'ave jost eata vone greata beeg suppair. 

VAN TUYL: — (Looking into cradle) — Six olives — strawberry 
jam — a few hot-house grapes — 

SIG. VAN.: — (Rapturously) — An' da cupa of chocolate! Ah, 
milor — 'e 'ave r-r-recolleck ev'ryt'ings ! 

VAN TUYL: — (Seeing the saucepans by the fire) — What's that 
you're cooking — not your famous macaroni? 

SIG. VAN. : — It is for madame. She eata nodings alia da day. 
I come 'ome ear'lee an' maka dis for — vhat you say? — sur-pr-ise? 

VAN TUYL: — How did she get through the performance? 

SIG. VAN.: — (Volubly) — Un triomfo enorme! Eet maka me 
t'ink of dat so splendeed night I seeng Lucresimi Borgia an' 'is 
Excellenza da duca di Modena, 'e — 

VAN TUYL: — (Interrupting) — Yes, I remember. 

(Looking at his zvatch) — Madame is late. 

SIG. VAN. : — She say addio to Signor Strakosch an" de oder 
ar-r-rtistes an' r-r-receive da pr-r-resent — 

VAN TUYL:— Really? 

SIG. VAN. : — (Nodding) — De peen vid da beeg r-rubee an' de 
br-racelet wid' many pear-r-rl, an' ah ! Madonna ! — da di'mon' 
crown fr-rom alia da signora of New Yor-rk ! 

VAN TUYL:— I believe you! (Suddenly)— \\2i\t\ What's 
that? (There is an instant's pause. From far away come the dis- 
tant strains of "Yankee Doodle," played on a brass band. During 
the following scene the music grows nearer, and beneath it can be 
heard the vague, confused noise of many people shouting.) 

SIG. VAN. : — (After listening a moment) — Da music — (She 



ROMANCE. 5I 



goes quickly to zviiidow. of^ens it. steps out on balcony and look's 
up street.) 

VAN TXJYl^:— (Following her)— A brass band! (He stands 
by window.) 

SIG. VAN.: — (Suddenly) — Santi Benissimi! 

VAN TUYL : — (As the sound increases) — Down Fourteenth 
Street ! That's en route from the Academy — 

SIG. VAN. : — (Who grows more and more excited as the scene 
proceeds) — Ecco! See! 

VAN TUYL: — Torches! By Jove, it's a regular Republican 
rally ! 

SIG. VAN. : — More people — an' more — an" more an' more 
(lev come ! 

VAN TUYL:— Every fellow with his hat o^—( Shivering)— 
And zero weather, too ! 

SIG. VAN. : — (Pointing) — See — de peoples in de vindows ! Dat 
so fat man — vhat is dat 'e say? 

VAN TUYL : — (Raising his voice above the uproar) — I can't 
hear ! (The music stops.) 

SIG. VAN.: — (At a loud roar of "Bravo!" Cavallini!" 
"Hurrah!" etc.) — Ah! she come — she come! (She claps her hands 
and leans far out.) 

VAN TUYL:— (Leaning out, too)— Where? 

SIG. VAN.: — (Pointing) — Dere — do you not see da car-r-riage? 

VAN TUYL: — But where's the coachman — where are the 
horses? Good Lord! if those young fools aren't dragging it 
themselves ! 

SIG. VAN. : — Ah ! vhen 1 \ as prima donna at Bologna an' singa 
"Lucrezia Borgia" for-r — 

SIG. VAN.: — (Suddenly) — .Ah! Ecc.ola la! Bellaza niia! Come 
c bella! You see 'er — ye-es? 

VAN TUYL :— No— that tall young devil's in the way! (Sud- 
denly) — Ah, there she is! (To himself) — By Jove! By Jove! 

(He stares spell-bound. The band, now much nearer, slowly 
begins '"Way Down Upon the Swanee River.") 

(The torchlight illumines the two figures on the balcony. The 
procession now is almost underneath them. The music stops. There 
is a burst of cheering. SIGNORA VANNUCCI zvaves her hand- 
kerchief wnldly.) 

SIG. \' AX. : — Evivva! E.vivva! Brava Cavallini! Brava re- 
gina! Ecco mi alia finestra! Guards alia tua povera vecchia Van- 
nucci. (In delight) — Ah! Ecco! Cosi va bene! (She laughs and 
waves. To Van Tuyl) — She look up — she see us ! (Van Tuyl takes 
off his hat and bows in a very stately way.) 

SIG. VAN. : — (Suddenly, as the glitter of a rocket is seen in 
the street outside) — Ehi! Ehi! Cosa fatef 

(She clutches Van Tuyl and crosses herself.) 

VAN T\JY'L:—(Reassuringly)— It's all right— those fellows in 
the corner are just setting off some fireworks. — (There is a great 
cheer from the crowd.) 

SIG. VAN. : — She come — she descend fr-rr-rom da car-r-riage 
— Look ! Look 'ow da young men kissa 'er 'and ! — (There are 
more rockets and the band begins to play "Kennst Du Das Land." 
Prom below is heard a volley of shouts and cheers and laughter) 



52 ROMANCE. 



— Dere ! She is inside — (Coming back quickly into the room) — 
Qiieeck ! Shut-a da vindow — dis r-room is all dam' col' — 

(lit steps inside and closes the windozv. The fireworks are 
still seen, but the music and crowd are heard more faintly. 
Sl'GXORA I'AXNUCCI bustles about, putting a new log on the 
fire, adjusting furniture, etc.) 

So I Ecco! Dat is r-right ! Vill milor 'elp me vid dis chair — ? 
an' (la table — mor-re near-r da fir-re — lika dat I (Suddenly) — 
Madonna mio ' 1 'ave for-get — 

(She quickly pulls back the portieres over arch at back, revealing 
the bed-roofn. There is a canopied bed, turned down, with elab- 
orate pillows, etc. A small lamp burns on its head, casting a 
warm glow. On the bed is a night-gown case, heavily embroid- 
ered. A long white dressing-gown lies across a near-by chair, 
with a pair of slippers underneath. The Signora picks up these 
last and comes back immediately into the sitting-room. She hangs 
the robe on a chair close to fire and puts slippers zvhere they, too, 
will warm.) — Milor, 'e recolleck dis r-robe — ? 

VAN TVYL:— (Helping her arrange />;— Millefleurs ! 

SIG. VAN. : — (Laughing) — Ah, vhat good time milor 'e give us 
dere! I vish dat — (There is a knock at the door and before any- 
one can answer, it is opened and ADOLPH appears hurriedly, 
carrying a champagne bucket.) 

KDO'LVn-.— (Excitedly)— You haf-ear— ? You haf seen? 
Look dere! (He points to fireworks outside) — Mein Got im Him- 
mel! — (He puts down the champagne by the table. The bell-boy 
bursts in excitedly.) 

BELL BOY -.—(With a long whistle)— Whew \ Holy cats! 
This town ain't seen the like since the Prince o' Wales was here ! 
(There is an especially brilliant effect of fireworks outside.) — 
jee-rusalem — ! 

(He rushes to the window: The Head Waiter, two Subordi- 
nates and two Hall-boys in uniform come in one after the other, 
talking among themselves and laden with "floral offerings" of all 
kinds. There are wreaths, "set-pieces" in the form of harps, 
hearts, etc. One large bird with "Nightingale" worked in white 
roses upon red, etc. Some have the American and Halian colors 
attached, others have the setitiments such as "Say not Good-bye," 
"Our Mignon," "Addio," etc.) 

ONE WAITER:— Ouvrec la parte! 

ANOTHER WAITER :—0w/—)/^ voyec-z'ous pas que je suis 
occupe — ? 

HEAD WAITER: — Ou fait-il poser ces engins-ci, madamef 

SIG. VAN.: — Sur le piano — bien! c'est ca! Dis — done — qu'est 
ce que tu as sur la table — (To Van Tuyl) — Are dey not bee- 
autiful? Santi benissimi! (To the waiters) — Va doucement, 
idiot — ! Tu vas I' abier — / Penchexz cella-la a cote de a 
chaise — 

HEAD WAITER:— Ft7<?/ Vite! Espece d'un escargot—! 
Madame va venir — toiite de suit! Ah, la voila — .' Comme elle 
est ravissante — / 

M. BAPTISTE: — (Outside) — Ah, madame, nous somnies in- 
finiment heureux de prendre part dans le triomphe d'une artiste 
si celebre — Et, si je I'ose dire, une cliente si Exquiset! 

(As he has spoken, he has entered and stands respectfully on 



ROi\IA\CE. 53 



one side of the door, bowing and rubbing his hands. He is one 
of the hotel proprietors and wears a frock-coat.) 

RITA : — (Entering) — Merci, monsieur — merci lille fois — vous 
etes trop aimables. (To Sig. Van, in a whisper) — Per I' amor di 
Dio, mettili fuori! Don posso piu — 

(She is in gorgeous evening dress, glittering with jewels. On 
her head is a croimi of diamonds. She wears a cloak of purple 
velvet, bordered with fur. In one hand she carries a superb 
wreath of laurel leaves, tied simply with a golden ribbon. With 
the other she holds a great armful of white roses. She is very 
pale and exquisitely gracious. The music comes to an end just 
after her entrance.) 

(There is a renewed burst of cheering outside) — lis sont tou- 
jours la? Ecoutez — qu-est — ce quits disent? 

M. BAPTISTE:— CV^r/r^j confus madame—(To Bell-boy)— 
Eh, you! Dose peoples out dere, vhat is it dey say? 

BELL BOY :—r5/ir/%;— They're yellin' fer a speech! (There 
are indeed heard loud cries of "speech!" "Just a little one!" 
"Come on!" etc.) 

M. BAPTISTE: — (To Rita) — Si madame etait assez aimable 
de leur addresser — 

RITA : — (Drawing back) — Ah, non — non — c'est impossible — 
BELL BOY: — (Yelling inside) — They won't go away! 
M. BAPTISTE: — Je vous prie. madame — pour I'honneur de 
I'hotel—- 

RITA: — (In a flash of petulance) — Non, Je refuse — entendec 

vous? Je refuse absolument! (Turning away) — Ah, par exam-ple 

— c'est trop fort! (There is a renewed outburst from the crowd.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Speaking for the first time)— Madame, your 

public's calling you. 

RITA:— Vhat— ? 

VAN TUYL:— (Simply)— You must obey! (Pause.)— 
RITA : — (In a low tone) — Open de vin-dow ! (The Bell-boy 
does so, the noise is heard very much more clearly. She lays- 
down her wreath, then goes slowly to window.) — 

M. BAPTISTE: — Ah, que madame est bonne — (Delighted.) 
SIG. VAN.:— (Stopping her)— Aspetta! 

(Rita steps out on balcony. There is a great cheer as she 
appears, the red Bengal light, biasing up again, falls fitfully upon 
her figure. There is the hiss and glare of many rockets set off 
simultaneously. The band plays a fanfare — the general effect is 
a blare of light, noise and splendour. She stands in the midst 
of it all — bowing, smiling and holding up her hand for silence. 
In the room behind her everyone is applauding. The proprietors 
utter an occasional "Bravo!" and Signora Vannucci ostentatiously 
wipes away her tears. Then quite suddenly there is a silence. A 
man's voice is heard yelling, "If you don't feel like talkin' — sing!" 
There is a burst of laughter, cries of "Shut up!" "Give her a 
chance!" etc., and silence again falls. A little pause.) 

RITA : — (Simply and tenderly) — Sveet ladies — gentlemen — 

dear-r peoples who 'ave been so goo-ood to me — I do not know 

your-r names an' faces — I cann-not follow you into you-r 'omes, 

I can jos' seeng a leetle — an' pr-r-ray de saints dat somet'ing in 

my song will spik to you an' say — (Holding out her arms to them) 



54 ROMANCE. 



— "1 lo-ove 30U I You are all I 'ave to lo-ove in dis beeg vor-r- 
rold !" 

(There are cheers from heloiv, cries of "That's the ticket!" 
"Hear thatf "Shut up!" "Let her go on!" etc.) 

Mebbe you don' on'erstan' jos' vhat dat mean — you who 'ave 
'usbands, vives an' leetle child-ren, too! (With a smile) — Ah, veil] 
I vould not like it dat you should ! I on-lee tell you so you feel 
like, doing for-r me vone las' gr-r-reat kin'ness — 

(There are cries of "What is itf" "Tell us!" "Give us a 
chance!'' etc., from heloiv. She takes a step foward and speaks 
THry earnestly) — 

To-mor-r-row 1 go far-r avay. Mebbe sometime I seeng for-r 
you again. 

(Cheers and cries of "Of course!" "That's right!" "Come' 
back soon!" etc. She puts up her hand for silence.) — an' mebbe 
not. Who knows? But if t'rough all your-r 'app-ee, 'app-ee lives 
you carr-ee, vay down deep, vone leetle t'ought of me — vone golden 
mem-o-res of my song — vhere-e-ver I am, dear-r frien's, oh! I vill 
know it an' be gla-ad ! 

(Shouts of "We will!" "That's easy!" "Couldn't help it!" 
"Trust us!" etc. Her tone changes. She continues with tender 
playfulness) — 

In my countr-ee ve 'ave a leetle — vhat you say? — t'ing ve tell 
each oder vhen ve say "Addio" — "Chele rose fioriscano nei vostri 
cuori fin ch'io ritorno a coglierle!" May de r-r-roses bloss-om in 
your-r 'ear-rt until I co-me to gadder dem again ! 

(There is a great shout from the adoring crowd, "Good-bye!" 
"Good luck!" "Come back soon!" "We'll wait for you!" etc., etc., 
are heard. The band begins to play, very slowly, "Auld Lang 
Syne." The cheering continues. There is a final burst of fire- 
Vi'orks. Rita tosses one of her white roses over the balcony, 
there is a renezved shout, she smiles and follows it with another 
and another, until they all are gone. Then, still smiling and show- 
ing her empty hands, she blows a last kiss and steps inside, shutting 
the windozv behind her. There has been applause from the people 
in the room at the close of her little speech and nozv there is a 
general movement forzvard to congratulate her.) 

M. BAPTISTE: — (Effusively) — Ah, madame, mes compli- 
ments! C'etait parfait! 

RITA ■.—Merci—merci— 

VAN TUYL : — (Formally) — Madame, my congratulations ! 

RITA : — T'ank you ver' much — I — (She staggers suddenly, lean- 
ing on a chair and putting her hand to her head. There is a 
moment's pause, then everyone speaks at once.) 

SIG. VAN.: — (Rushing to her) — Tesaro mio — / Cos'ef 

M. BAPTISTE:— Mai> elle est malade— 

HEAD WAITER :—£//^ chancelle— 

VAN TUYL:— rro Adolph)—h glass of water- quick • (He 
brings it hurriedly.) 

SIG. VAN.:— rTo Rita)—Bevi. 

RITA : — (Recovering and refusing the glass) — No — sto benone 
— (To the hotel proprietors) — J'ai la tete en feu — mille pardone — 
(She smiles.) 

M. 'BAVTIST'E.:— (Sympathetically)— Au oui, madame— je 
comprends — des foiz, vous, saves, ca arrive. 



ROMANCE. 55 



SIG. VAN : — (To Van Tuyl) — She 'ave eat nod'ings for-r 
vone — two — days ! — (To Baptiste and Florian) — Messieurs, vous 
savez madame — elle est au bout de ses forces — Alors, vous com- 
prenez — 

M. FLORIAN : — Mais certainement — (To the waiters, chasseurs, 
bell boy, etc.) — Assez — asses, mes en f ants! Dites bon soir a 
madame et sauves — VOUS — / ('They all huddle toward the 
door) — 

BELL BOV : — (To Adolph, luho is trying to pull him along) — 
Leggo o' me! Don't you see this is my only chance? (He strug- 
gles.) 

ADOLPH -.—(Under his breath)— Ssh ! Be still ! 
A WAITER -.—(Officiously)— Tais-toi! 

BELL BOY -.—(Loudly, as they all try to pull him)—\ will 
not! (Calling to RitaJ—Sayl 

RITA: — You vant to spik to me — ye-es? Co-me — I vill 
leesten ! (The waiters release him.) 

BELL BOY -.—(Triumphantly to them)— Ysi—ya. ! Did ye ever 
get left? (He turns to Rita and suddenly becomes horribly em- 
barrassed) — 

RITA :— (Smiling)— Yell? 

BELL BOY: — (All in one breath, speaking very rapidly) — 
Beggin' yer pardon an' thankin' ye for all favors past an' present, 
would it cause ye too much inconvenience t' affix yer autograph 
to this little album, thus joinin' the large company o' famous ladies 
an' gents what have spread sunshine in the life of a po'r bell-boy? 
'RITA:— (Bewildered^— Vhat—? (To Baptiste)— Qug dit-il, le 
p'tit? 

M. BAPTISTE:— (Smoothly)— Oh. c'est votre autograph 
madame — (Under his breath as he glances ferociously at the boy) — 
Sacre p'tite cochon — 

RITA : — Mais certainement — (To the Bell-boy, holding out her 
hand for book) — 'Ere — vhere shall I — ? 

BELL BOY -.—(Gratefully giving her the book and pencil) — 
Say, yer a real Jim Dandy ! (Pointing to the page) — Right there 
— between P. T. Barnum an' General Grant ! (As she writes) — I've 
been savin' that space for two years, but holy Moses! I guess I'll 
never get anybody t' beat you! 

RITA : — (Returning him book) — So — ! Be goo-ood boy — 
vor-r-rk 'ard — an' gr-r-row up fine, beeg A-mer-r'can man! Vait ! 
(Picking up a zvreath of roses and smilingly putting it round his 
neck) — A souvenir ! 

BELL BOY : — T'anks. But if yer givin' away souvenirs, 
there's one I'd like morn'n this! 

RIT A :—( Innocently) — An' vhat is dat? 

BELL BOY: — (Taking his courage in both hands) — A kiss! 
(A movement of horror on the part of the waiters, proprietors, 
etc.) 

RITA : — (Smiling as she makes believe to box his ears, then 
bending over and kissing him) — Barabbin — / (Pushing him 
towards door) — Now r-r-run — queek — queek — ! 

BELL BOY:— M^ he dashes om^— S'elp me Gawd. I'll never 
wash that side o' my face again ! 

' RITA: — (To all the zvaiters, etc., as they go out) — Bon soir! 
Bon soir! Merci bien — bon soir, Adolph — 



56 ROMA\XE. 



THE WAITERS :— Bon soir, Madame— bon so'ir— (They exit.) 

M. BAPTISTE: — (Kissing her hand) — A demain madame — / 
Et dorniez-hien! 

RlTA:—Merci—merci cher msieur—(They EXIT. RITA, 
SIGNORA VANNUCCI and VAN TUYL are left alone.) 

RITA: — (Turning away with a sigh of lassitude) — Oh! Oh — / 
Oh — / Son cosi stanca — (Rita turns away, takes a cigarette from 
a box on a small table and lights it. Van Tuyl, leaning against 
the piano, smokes a cigarette quietly and watches her. Signora 
Vannucci bustles about the fire, preparing the piegnoir, slippers, 
etc.) 

SIG. VAN. : — Always speaking as one would to a spoilt, tired 
child) — Vienni, piccina! Eevati il mantello! 

RITA: — (Blowing out her match and turing vacantly) — Eh — ? 
(Understanding) — Oh, gia — il mio mantello — (She drops her cloak 
carelessly on the floor as she comes over to the fire and stops by 
the monkey's cradle) — (She draws over it a small monogramme'd 
blanket, which hangs over the foot, and carefully tucks it in- 
Smoking and gently rocking the cradle) — Va bene — dormi — dormi, 
belleza mia! Mama e qui, vic'mo a te — dormi, anima mia — dormi — 
dormi — 

SIG. VAN. : — (Coming to her with a large jewel-case) — La tua 
corona, cara — e i tuio gioielli — 

"~RITA : — (Putting her hand to her brow) — Oh, my 'ead — it is 
so tired — Eccola — .' (She slowly and listlessly takes off the dia- 
mond crown, her necklace, bracelets, brooches, rings, etc., and 
gives them to the Vannucci. The latter puts them in the jewel- 
case.) 

SIG. VAN. : — (While this is going on) — E la collana — cosi sa 
fa — ora gli anelli. 

RITA: — Petulantly, as Sig. Van pinches her in unclasping a 
bracelet) — Fa attensoine — che mi fai male! 

SIG. VAN.: — (Quickly) — Oh, scusa — scusa, cara! — (She shuts 
the case and puts it in the inside room) — 

RITA : — (Sitting down on the floor before the fire where the 
cards are scattered and speaking in an odd voice) — Per I' ultima 
volta — chissa cosa dirann of — (She recovers herself with an effort, 
gathers up the cards, shuffles, and begins to deal, her cigarette in 
her mouth) — 

SIG. VAN.: — (Coming from the inner room) — Ah, lascio le 
carte stassera! 

RITA: — (Counting) — Una — due—tre died! Cosi! (She 

deals and moves about the cards in a mystic pattern.) 

SIG. VAN. : — (Kneeling by her and taking off her slippers, 
trying not to disturb her) — Eccoci! (Feeling her feet) — Ah, 
madonna mia! Come son freddi — .' 

RITA : — (Busy with the cards) — // re di cuori cambria posto col 
fante — (She kicks viciously at the Vannucci. Then resuming) — 
E il fante col' as so — 

SIG. VAN.: — (Gingerly trying to put a slipper on the other 
foot) — Adagio! Adagio! — (As she succeeds) — Ecco! (Undoing 
Rita's dress) — Adesso leviamo qiiesto — ci vuole un momenta solo — 

RITA : — (In sudden anger) — Lasciommi store — .' O ti daro una 
lavata di capo — 



ROMANCE. 57 



SIG. WAK.:— (Appealing to Van Tuyl J— Mi\or—'t see— she 
vill-a not let me — (Rita solemnly crosses herself thrice.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Tossing away his cigarette and rising) — Rita. 

RITA:— (Looking up)— Vhat—? 

VAN TUYL: — (Quietly) — Stand up. The signora wants to 
put on your dressing-gown. 

RITA : — Whimpering as she tosses her cigarette into the fire 
and rises) — Oh, dear-r ! Vhat for-r you ma-ake me ! 

VAN T\]Yl.:— (Interrupting)— Ssh—! (During the following, 
with the Vannucci's help she slips off her hall-gown and puts on 
the elaborate negligee.) 

RITA: — (Simply, still looking at him) — Vhy you co-ome 'ere? 

VAN TUYL:— Don't you want to see me?' 

RITA : — Oh, I dunno — I am so tir-r-red — 

VAN TUYl^:— (Taking one of her hands) — Poor little thing! 

RITA : — Ye-es, dat is r-r-right — poo-oor leetle — (Suddenly and 
viciously to Vannucci) — Per carita! Credi che sia fatta di legno — f 

SIG. VAN.: — (Panic-stricken) — Scusi, tanto, cara mia! Va 
bene, — sosi! — (She goes off into the inner room, carrying the 
dress) — 

RITA : — (In a sulky voice to Van Tuyl) — She mds' ver' near-r- 
rlee br-rreak my ar-r-rm ! (She drops on the floor again and lies 
at full length, her coin in her hands, studying the cards.) 

VAN TVYl^:— (Smiling)— And what do the cards say— eh, 
little Italian sorceress? 

RITA : — Dey say — dey say — (She looks far away) — You did not 
see 'im veep ! 

VAN TUYL:— What? 

RITA : — (As before) — 'E veep jos' like a leetle boy — vhen 
fir-r-rst 'e meet de bad-ness of de vor-r-rld — 

VAN TUYl^:— (Concerned)— Ah, don't, my dear! Don't think 
of it any more! 

RITA : — (Looking down again at the cards) — T'ree club — 
dat mean a long, long jour-r-ney — 

VAN TUYL : — (Cheerfully) — Clever work ! You're certainly 
going away. 

RITA -.—(In an odd voice, looking far o#j— Ye-es— I am going 
avay — 

VAN TUYL: — (Leaning over his chair) — Well, what comes 
next? 

RITA : — (Looking down again at the cards) — Vour — five, seex 
di'mon' — an' goo-ood vones, too. Dat mean success an' mon-ee — 
vhat you say? — gr-r-reat fame — onl-ee to r-reach it I mus' go 
t'rough much — 

VAN TUYL:— You'll get there— never fear! 

RITA:— 'E vould not spik to me vone leetle vor-r-rd— I say 
t'ank you for-r 'aving lo-oved me! — jos' liek dat! — an' den I vait 
— bue 'e say nod'ings — so I go avay — 

VAN TUYL:— ("PaiH^rf;— Don't, dear— it's no use! 
RITA:— 'Ow long vou t'ink. before-ee 'e vill for-get? 

VAN TUYL:— Ssh! 
' RITA:— (Returning to cards)— Ah, che m' importa? (Pointing 
to the jack) — Dat blond young man — look! 'Ow 'e is far fr-rom 
me! 



58 ROMANCE. 



VAN TUYL:— (Looking at cards)— From you—? Oh, of 
course! You're the red queen down in the middle of all those 
spades. They're nothing bad, I hope? 
RITA : — You are among dem. 
VAN TUYL:— I—? 

RITA : — Ye-es — an' de oders, too — see ! You are all about 
me — dere is no vay out — 

VAN TUYL:— But, dear, I— 

RITA : — (Beginning zvith a little smile) — My — vhat you say ? 
(Tenderly) — My flames — my splendid vones of whom I vas so 
pr-r-roud — look ! 'Ow you are black — am' str-r-rong — ah santa 
Madonna! I 'ave give you ev'ryt'ings — an' now vhen lo-ove, 'e 
co-ome an' smile an' 'old out 'is deear-r 'ands, I cannot give — no, 
cr-r-ruel vones ! You 'ave leave me nod'ings — you 'ave take — take 
— it all — (She sweeps away the cards and buries her face in her 
hands. Van Tuyl puts his hand gently on her shoulder. There 
is an instant's pause. SIGNORA VANNUCCI comes hustling 
in from the other room.) 

SIG. VAN.: — (Entering) — Adesso! Siamo bel' e pronto per 
— (She sees Rita's position. Van Tuyl makes a gesture for her 
to be still. She stops in the middle of her phrase. Then, under 
her breath) — Povrina! (She catches Van Tuyl's eye, makes a 
gesture towards Rita, then to macaroni at fire, next to table — then 
pantomime of eating. He nods assent. With every evidence of 
satisfaction she goes over to fire and takes up the macaroni, pours 
sauce over it, stirs it, etc.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Turning to Rita, speaking kindly and cheer- 
fully) — Supper's ready ! 

RITA : — (Stifled) — I am not 'ungr-ree. 

VAN TUYL -.—(Pleading)— Oh, please ! Why, the signora has 
taken all the trouble to cook your favorite macaroni — 
SIG. VAN. : — (From fire) — Al sugo — e bonissimo ! 
RITA :— No— no— no— 

VAN TUYL:— Think how disappointed she'll he— (Raising 
her) — There! Come along, little girl — (Showing her the table) — 
Doesn't that salad look good? We'll sit you down in this big 
armchair at the head of the table — (Doing so as he speaks) — and 
I'll be butler, with my napkin over my arm, so ! (Imitating a 
servant's manner) — And will madame drink Chianti or a little 
champagne — ? (Looking at the label on the bottle) — Roznay et 
Perrault. '52 — not too dry, I venture to recommend it. Cham- 
pagne — ? Very good, madame — I'll open it at once! (He begins 
to do so.) — ' 

SIG. VAN.: — (Serving her with spaghetti)— Ecco! Che buon 
odoref (Sprinkling it with cheese) — Mettiamo abbastansa fro- 
magio — 

VAN TUYL:— (Pulling the cork and filling a glass)— Thertl 
Just taste it now and tell me if it's all right. (As she refuses the 
glass) — Please, dear! You really need it! 

SIG. VAN.:— (As one speaks to a child)— Macche! Non 
mangi? — (Coaxingly) — Ti prego — 

VAN TUYL: — (Offering her again the glass) — Just as a favor 
— please. (She shakes her head.) 

SIG. VAN. -.-(Winding a great coil of spaghetti around the 
end of a fork and holding it in front of Rita's mouth)— Questo 



ROMANCE. 59 



pocchina — presto! presto! Apra la bocca! (As Rita draws her 
head away and the spaghetti falls to the plate) — Santo Did 

(A pause of discouragement. She and Van Tuyl look at each 
other and shrug their shoulders. Then a happy idea comes to 
the signora. Behind Rita's back, she gestures towards Van Tuyl, 
then to the spaghetti^ pantomime of his sitting at table opposite 
Rita, and eating and drinking. He smiles and nods.) 

VAN TUYL:— rro Rita)— You know the sight of that's 
making me hungry? I wonder if there'd be enough to give me 
just a — 

SIG. VAN. : — (Interrupting and running to serve him) — You 
lika da macaroni, I bet my life ! (She serves him) — 

VAN TUYL :— Here ! That's enough ! Thanks. (As he pours 
himself a glass of wine) — And just a swallow of champagne — I 
declare, I feel quite famished! (Pause. He does not touch any- 
thing) — Well, are you going to let me starve? 

RITA:— (Rousing herself )—Vh'dt you say? 

VAN TUYL : — You know I can't eat anything until my hostess 
does. 

RITA : — (Aggrieved) — It is a treeck you play ! 

VAN TUYL: — (Humbly) — No, on my word, I'm hungry! 

RITA : — (Smiling unwillingly) — Den jus' because I am so 
fr-rightfull-ee pol-ite ! — (She eats a piece of spaghetti. Sig. Van, 
and Van Tuyl exchange glances.) 

SIG. VAN.: — (Hanging over Rita) — E buonof 

RITA :— (Patting her cheek)— Squisito—! 

SIG. VAN.: — (Kissing her) — Tesorino mio! 

VAN TUYL:— I'm thirsty, too! 

RITA: — (Smiling) — Blageur! (She drinks some champagne. 
He smiles and follozus her example.) 

VAN TUYL:— (Putting down his glass)— A thousand thanks! 
And now, my dear, the signora had a hard day's packing and 
to-morrow she'll be up at dawn. Why don't you send her to bed 
and give her a good night's rest? 

SIG. VAN. : — Gra::ia, milor — I am not-a much tir-r-red. 

RITA: — Ha regione. A letto! E metti in gabbia i pop- 
pogalli! (She drinks again) — 

SIG. VAN.:— (Meaningly)— Capisco! (To the parrot)— E loro, 
povere bestie! Hano anche iin bel sonno! — (Unchaining them and 
taking one on each wrist) — Andiamoci — .' (To Van Tuyl) — 

SIG. VAN. : — I 'ope milor 'e sleep ver' fine ! Goo-ood night ! 

VAN TUYL:— (Politely rising)— Oh, thanks. Good night, 
signora. 

RITA : — Buona notte — (Suddenly putting dozvn her glass, 
rising and running to Sig. Van.) — Carissima mia, ti ringrazia 
tanto — tanto! E ti amo sempre non dimentica! To amo — ti amo — 
(She throws her arms around her neck and kisses her warmly) — 

SIG. VAN. .—(Half smothered by the embrace)— Madonna 
santissima cosa vuol dire tutto questof (Snivelling a little) — 
Corpo di Bacco! Mi — fai piangere! Buona notte — (Kissing her) — 
Buona notte, milor — ! (Kissing her again) — Carissima — f Buona 
ndtte — buona notte — (She goes out at left, sniffling and smiling and 
carrying the parrots) — 

VAN TUYL:— (Who has served her with salad)— Now sit 
down and finish your supper. 



60 ROMAXXE. 



RITA: — (Shaking her head) — No — it is enough — (Filling her 
glass and lifting his ozvnJ—WeW, then let's drink a toast — eh? I 
have it I To the splendor of your days to come I (He bows and 
drinks. Then, seeing she has not followed his example) — What's 
the matter? Don't they tempt you? 

RITA : — (Holding her glass) — I do not dreenk to vhat I know 
mus' be — but to a dr-r-ream I vill not dr-r-r-ream again — de 
peecture of a small r-room — var-rm an' br-right — vit 'em so bus-ee 
wr-r-riting at 'is desk — an' me before-re da fir-r-re — jos' r-rock-eng, 
smil-eeng — vit' a leetle bab-ee nur-rsing at my breas' — 

VAX TUYL:— (Suddenly)— My dear, I want you to listen to 
a plan. (Sitting in the big chair and drawing her down until she 
nestles at his feet) — There — I That's right I (Cheerfully re- 
suming) — Xow how would you like it if I sailed on the Alaska in 
April and met you in Paris and took you straight back to Mille- 
fleurs — 

RITA: — But my R-r-russian concert tour-r — ? 
VAN TUYL: — They can get Patti in vour place! 
RITA:— (Not pleased)— Patti—? 
VAN TUYL:— Yes. she'd be glad enough to go! 
RITA: — (Less and less enthusiastic) — But my dear-r frien', it 
is not — vhat you sav? it is not fair! 
VAN TUYL:— To whom? 
RITA : — To dose poo-oor R-rusians ! 
VAN TUYL:—(Smiling)— You're jealous! 

RITA:— (Outraged)— Of Adelina? Me—? (Very scornfully) 
—My Lor-r-rd! 

VAN TUYL: — (Caressing her hair) — Then why bother? Think 
of Millefleurs and how we loved it on those nights in May! And 
it's there now — asleep and empty, like some spellbound garden — 
just waiting for the touch of spring — and us — to give it life again! 
"RITA: — (Her head against her knee) — You tol' me vonce you 
ar-re too ol' to lo-ove Millefleurs — 

VAN TUYL: — (Smiling) — My dear, your sorcery can make 
me young again. We'll spend the spring in our enchanted palace 
— and somehow, in all that beauty, we'll manage to forget. (He 
bends over and softly kisses her hair.) 

RITA : — (Starting at his touch) — No — no — dat is imposs'ble — 
you don' on'erstand — 

VAN TUYL:— (Holding her)— What is it? Tell me! 
RITA: — (Rising^ — I cannot do t'ings like dat — anv mor-r-re 
—(Pause.) 

VAN TUYL:— rHw;«b/y,)— Forgive me. It was a mistake. I 
didn't mean to hurt you. 

RITA : — You are-re so goo-ood — but vhat I mus' do now, it 
need no' 'elp f r-r-rom anyvone — not even you ! 

(She- takes up her glass from table and drinks some cham- 
pagne.) 

VAN TUYL:— What is it? 

RITA: — You pr-r-romise you not tell — ? 

VAN TUYL:— Of course. 

RITA:— (Going to the couch )— Or get ver' ma-ad an scol 

me — ? 

VAX TUYL:— (Smiling)— V\] do my best. 

RITA:— Hen I vill show you— vait ! (She hunts behind the 



ROMANCE. 61 



cushions, whistling softly to herself J — Ecco! She takes out a 
small box. This she quickly opens and from it lifts a new and 
glittering little pistol. She stands and looks at it, still whistling.) — 
VAN TVYL:— (Calmly)— Where did you get that? 



RITA 
VAN 
RITA 



— Dis after-noon — vhen I leave 'is 'ouse- 
TUYL:— What for? 

(Looking at him) — You know. 



VAN TUYL:— My dear child- 

RITA : — (Going to entrance of bed-room — back) — I 'ave vait 
till aftair de per-r-for-rmance — I vould not like it to 'ave deesap- 
poin' de peoples who 'ave been so nize to me — but now — (She stops 
and pats the pistol in her hand.) 

VAN TUYL:— Well? 

RITA : — (Softly) — Vhen dey co-ome to vake me in de mor-r- 
rning — I vill be far-r avay — (She turns and slips the pistol under 
the pillow of her bed.) 

VAN TUYL:— Tell me why. 

RITA : — In dese las' few weeks, I lear-rn somet'ing all new — 
an' bee-auti-ful — de goo-ood-ness of de vor-r-rld ! It co-ome like 
some gr-reat light dat bur-r-n an' blind an' str-rike me to de 
gr-r-roun' ! It show me for-r de fir-rst time to myself ! Ah, santo 
Dio! vhat it is I see! But now I cannot change — an' yet I cannot 
jus' for-get, an' go on as be-for-re — you see, I am — oh, vhat you 
call it? all meex up! An' so I lie down 'ere to-night — an' say 
"good-ood-bye." 

VAN TUYL:— And what about Tom? 

RITA: — (Quickly) — Don't spik 'is name — 

VAN TUYL:— I must! If you do this thing, you've got to 
realize what it means — and that's his ruin — d'you hear me? — the 
smash-up — the blasting of his life — 

RITA : — (Covering her ears) — No — no — 

VAN TUYL : — (Seizing her by the arm) — Do you think Tom 
could go ahead and do the work God meant him to with your 
blood on his hands — with your dead body like a mill-stone round 
his neck — 

RITA ■.—(Wailing)— V\e?ise— ! Please— ! 

VAN TUYL: — (Changing his tone) — Haven't you brought him 
enough suffering as it is? Ah, don't be cruel, my dear — don't 
crush him utterly — 

RITA : — (Desperatelv) — It is no use — I 'ave made up my min' — 

VAN TUYL:— (Quietly)— Then you don't love him. 

RITA: — (With a cry)— You say dat—? Vhen it is for-r 'im 
I die—? 

VAN TUYL:— ('/^/^/a;/ //3';— Die— ? That's easy! Why don't 
you live for him? 

RITA : — (At bay) — Don' ask me — no — it is too much — 

VAN TUYL:— (With sudden tenderness)— 1 knqw it's hard, 
but that's no reason why you should give up. Why, it's your 
price — your chance — the power to turn this dreadful business into 
something radiant and true — the final gift Tom's put into your 
hands ! 

) RITA : — (Clasping her hands) — Ah, Dio mio — 

VAN TUYL: — (Going on) — Be brave! Live gloriously I And 
if responsibility's the price of love — love's worth it — isn't it, my 
dear? — (Pause') 



62 ROMANCE. 



RITA : — You ar-re-r-r-right — oh, my f rien' — my frien', vhat 
'ave 1 done — vhat 'ave I done dat all dis co-ome to me — f (She 
bursts into agonised tears and throws herself on the floor by< 
couch, sobbing bitterly.) 

VAN TUYL: — (Putting his hand on her shaking shoulder) — 
Will you let me take the pistol with me when I go? 

RITA : — (Lifting her head) — You don' — tr-r-us' me — f (He 
turns up her face and looks at her) — (Lifting her to her feet) — 
I do — indeed I do — ! 

(He takes her face in his two hands and kisses her solmenly 
on the brow. There is a knock at the door — right. They both 
turn. A moment's silence. The knock is repeated.) 

RITA: — (Going to door) — Who is dere? 

BELL BOY: — (Voice outside) — It's me, ma'am. There's a 
gent downstairs t' see ye. 

RITA: — Vhat — ? (She opens the door a crack) — 

BELL BOY: — They told him it was awful late an' you was 
tired, but he wouldn't go, an' made 'em send up this. (He sticks 
in his arm with a tray, on which is a note. Rita takes it, looks at 
it, then opens it quickly and takes out a card, which she reads.) 

VAN TUYL:— (Watching her face)— It's Tom? 

RITA :— (Nodding)— Ye-es— 

VAN TUYL:— (In a low voice)— What does he want? 

RITA : — (Reading) — "I mus' see you. It is life or death." 
(Looking up) — Dat's all. 

VAN TUYL : — You mustn't see him. It's useless — worse than 
that ! — it's dangerous ! 

RITA : — But I vant to tell 'im — that you 'ave tol' me. I vant 
dat 'e should know all 'e 'ave done for-r me. 

VAN TUYL:— (Wartiingly)-! wouldn't, dear— 

RITA : — (Decisively) — I mus'. (Turning to the door) — Leetle 
boy ! Please ask de gen'leman please to co-ome up-s'tair-r. 

BELL BOY: — All right, ma-am. (He closes the door. Then, 
seeing that Van Tuyl has found his coat, hat and stick) — 

RITA : — (Indicating the door at left) — You go out dat vay — or 
you meet 'im on da stair-r. 

VAN TUYL:— I see. Good-bye! (He offers her his hand) — 

RITA : — (Taking it) — Goo-ood bye. 

VAN TUYL: — (Still holding hers) — Do vou forgive me, dear? 

RITA:— For-r vhat? 

VAN TUYL:— (Wistfully)— For everything. (With a little 
gasp she lifts his hand and lightly touches it to her lips.) — 

VAN TUYL: — (Deeply moved as he suddenly gathers her in 
his arms) — My darling — ! Beautiful — ! Joy of men — ! 

RITA : — (Brokenly) — Oh. my goo-ood frien' — (She buries her 
face on his shoulder) — 

YAK- TUYL:— (With infinite tenderness)— Little bird—! (He 
softly kisses her hair) — I shall hear your singing in my heart 
forever, and I thank you from the bottom of my soul ! (He bends 
over and reverently kisses her hands; then quickly and sharply 
turns and goes out — left. Rita is left alone. She looks after* 
him for a moment then runs to the window and opens it. Out- 
side the giconi and swirl of falling snow can be seen. Shr stands 
there, one hand to her throat, breathing deeply. A knock is heard 
at the door — right. She closes the window and turns — half-terrified, 



ROMANCE. 63 



half delighted — the knock is repeated, more loudly. She tries to 
speak, hut cannot. The knock is heard a third time. She controls 
herself with a great effort.) 

RITA : — Co-ome ! (The door opens and TOM appears. He 
is quite white, his hair dishevelled, his eyes wild. He is without 
overcoat or gloves — the snow is still on his shoulders, his hands 
are red with cold. His voice is thick and hoarse — his whole man- 
ner is strange — he moves and talks as though devoured by some 
inward flame. During the entire scene he barely takes his eyes 
away from her once. He closes the door and stands, with his back 
against it, looking at her.) 

RITA: — (With diMculty) — You — you vant to — see me? 

TOM : — Yes — (They look at each other, breathing deeply) — 

RITA: — (Her manner changing at once) — De fir-re — please — 
go queeck an' var-rm your-self — (Taking him by the arm and draw- 
ing him across) — Santi benissii — / You ar-re all vet! — (Glancing 
at his feet) — An' your-r shoe — per carita ! You 'ave valk 'ere in 
dis snow — 

TOM :— (Oddly)— Yt^—V\'t been walking— all the time that 
you were singing there — I think I got as far as Trinity, but I don't 
— quite remember — 

RITA: — Vhat for-r you co-ome out on a night so bad? An', 
if you mus', vidout dat beeg t'ick coat — ? 

TOM: — (Again staring at her) — I was thinking about some- 
thing else — about you — I was praying for you in the twilight — in 
the evening — in the black and dark night — 

RITA:— Oh. Meestair Tom! 

TOM : — (Continuing) — I walked and prayed. And in my 
prayers I felt a little hand here on my arm — some lost one offer- 
ing herself. I thought — but when I looked down at the quivering 
mouth under the veil and the tawdry bonnet — my head swam — 
it was you — 

RITA :— (Amazed)— ^1^—-^ 

TOM : — I heard you crying as I ran away — and I ran and ran, 
till I saw some lights and people — and then a little beggar, playing 
on the curb, held up her hand — but when I gave her a penny, she 
thanked me — with your voice — 

RITA : — No — no — you vere mees-take — 

TOM : — Of course ! And then I saw you — walking by me in 
the streets — and looking at me out of windows — hundreds of dif- 
ferent women, but every one was you — I couldn't move — you were 
so thick and close — and it began snowing and I thanked God, 
because that would blot you from my sight — but no — each snow- 
flake was a tiny face — your face — some crowned with diamonds — 
some with loosened hair — some old and terrible — some sad and 
young — and you came — and came — and kept on coming — thousands 
and millions of yovi, driving and swirling in your devil's dance by 
the glare of the gas-light on the corner — and not one spoke — you 
all just looked at me as if you wanted something — and suddenly 
I knew — you were begging me to bring your soul to God before 
it was too late, and I called to you — I cried out that I would ! — 
arjd then you smiled and vanished — and I came here through the 
storm. 

RITA : — (Clasping her hands) — You poo-oor, poo-oor boy. 

TOM : — Of course you understand ! (With emphasis) — As man 



64 ROMANCE. 



and woman, we've done with one another — But I am still a min- 
ister of God's word and you're still a human being in mortal peril ! 

RITA :— (Tenderly)— Ah, don' talk dat vay ! You are all 
shak-eeng — see ! you vill catch col' ! — (She tries to make him sit 
by fire.) 

TOM : — (Paying no attention) — D'you — you know you're stand- 
ing on the brink of life or death? You must choose between 
them — 

RITA : — (Trying to calm him) — Ye-es, ye-es — anodder time — 

TOM : — No — not another time ! To-night ! This very minute 
— Now ! 

RITA: — (In deep distress) — Oh, vhy you co-ome? 

TOM : — To save you, dear ! — Now listen ! At midnight I must 
lead my clergy through the streets — you know, my plan to gather 
in the vagrants for my New Year service — and to-morrow you go 
away. But I have you to-night, and I'll never leave you till you've 
given me your soul ! 

RITA : — Ah, if you on-lee knew 'ow — 

TOM: — (Interrupting and holding up his hand) — Listen! Don't 
vou hear it — now — above us — in this very room? 

RITA:— 'Earr vhat— ? 

TOM : — (In a sort of rapture) — The sound of many waters — 

RITA :— (Puzzled)— "Eh—-^ 

TOM : — The voice — (Very solemnly) — The thunder of an 
angel's wings — ! (Brief pause.) 

RITA : — I 'ear-r de vind blow — an' my 'ear-rt beat — dat is all. 

TOM :— It's here ! I feel \i— (Ecstatically)— Oh, dear God- 
dear God ! you're giving me the strength to conquer her ! 

RITA: — (Anxiously) — Conqu-air — ? (Suddenly) — You vant to 
'ur-r-rt me ! Ah, don' 'ur-r-rt me — please I 

TOM : — (Turning to her and speaking with sudden tender- 
ness) — My dear, I wouldn't hurt you for the world. It's love 
I'm offering you — (As she makes a quick movement) — no, wait, 
my poor child — not the sick passion of those luxurious beasts, not 
even the great pity I once knew — the love I bring to you to-night 
is God's alone ! 

RITA:— God's lo-ove— ? 

TOM : — Yes. His — the mighty tenderness that moves the stars, 
and understands when little children pray. 

RITA:— Vhat you mean—? 

TOM : — (Always staring at her) — Little lost soul, I am ready 
to carry you home! Little tired heart, eager for joy, follow me 
and find it in His arms ! 

RITA: — (Looking at him) — I don' — qvite on'erstan' — 

TOM : — I thought our meeting was the work of chance — but 
no ! God drew you to me, over land and sea, that I might be the 
engine of His Word — ! You are a bride — but ah ! not mine — 
(His voice dropping) — not mine ! 

RITA: — A br-r-ride — me? No — no — dat is im-poss'ble — 

TOM : — (His eyes gleaming) — Don't you hear the midnight 
cry — "Behold! the Bridegroom cometh ! Go ye out to meet him I" 
Don't you see Him — coming from the wilderness like a pillar of 
smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense — ? His eyes are 
as a flame of fire — on his head are many crowns — he wears a gar- 
ment dipped in blood and on it a name is written — Lord of Lords 



ROMANCE. 65 



I 



und King of Kings — / Hark ! He is outside, knocking at your 
door! Rose of Sharon — Lily of the Valley — cease your slumber — 
for the hour has come ! 

RITA : — Your eyes — dey bite me — oh, dey bur-r-rn me up — 

TOM : — (Breathing fast and deep as he comes nearer) — My 
dear, he's tired — don't keep Him standing there — 

RITA: — Meestair Tom — Meestair Tom! 

TOM : — (Hoarsely) — Darling, open your heart — for God's sake 
let him in — 

RITA : — (In a spasm of nervous horror as he finally seizes 
her) — Don' touch me — don' — don' — let me go! 

(She drops writhing at his feet. He holds fast to her hands 
and speaks quickly, bending over her.) — 

TOM : — (Changing his tone) — So you're proud — you think you 
can close your soul against the Lamb ! Well, let me tell you now 
that unless you repent the day will come when your pride lies 
broken — shattered by His wrath ! 

RITA : — (Interrupting) — Let me go — let me go — (She tears 
herself free and runs over to the fire, where she crouches 
trembling against the wall) — 

TOM : — (With terrible intensity) — When you have glorified 
yourself and lived deliciously, and all lands are drunk with the 
wine of your abominations — when you have said in your soul, 
I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow — then 
will the Son of Man thrust in his sickle — then will He gather your 
grapes and cast them down and tread them in the winepress of 
God's rage! 

RITA : — (Beginning suddenly to cry like a frightened child) — 
Oh—! Oh—! I am afr-r-raid ! 

TOM:— (Wildly)— Aiv2\d—\ Afraid? Miserable sinner, how 
can you live with that horror staring in your eyes? The visions of 
that dreadful day when the sun is smitten, and the moon is blood — 

RITA : — I don't believe — no — no, I don' — I don' — 

TOM : — When the graves are broken, and the sea gives up its 
dead — and great and small they stand before Him and He sits 
in judgment — 

RITA: — (Trying to interrupt him) — Meestair Tom — jos' vait 
vone meenute — 

TOM : — (Going on) — Don't you hear that Great Voice like a 
light that blinds — I made you keeper of my vineyards. But your 
own vineyards you have not kept. So you shall be cast into the 
bottomless pit and the lake of fire — and there, in the midst of your 
eternal torment you shall hear the "Allelulias" in the rainbow 
round My throne ! 

(He sinks into a chair, and buries his face in his hands. A 
pause. Rita, who has risen, now comes nearer him.) 

RITA : — (Simply) — I am qvite sure dis is de las' time dat ve 
spik togedder — de las' time dat I loo-ook upon your-r face. An' 
so I vant to tell you jos' a leetle somet'ing — an' den — veil, mebbe. 
I can say "goo-ood-bye." (She comes a little nearer and speaks 
at first zvith some difficulty) — You ar-re ver' kin' to t'ink of me 
so much — aftair all de tr-r-rouble I 'ave breenk — but dear — you 
cari for-get me now — it is all r-r-right — your vor-r-rk is done! 

TOM:— What's that? 

RITA .—(Her eyes shining)— \ vant to ma-ake my life all 



66 ROMANCE. 



goo-ood— like your-r-rs ! Ah, ye-es— I know dat vill be 'ar-r-rd, 
but .1 don' car-re — an' niebbe de kin' Madonna she vill 'elp me — 
vhen she see me tr-ry — (She clasps her hands, the dawn of hope on 
her face.) 

TOM : — (Staring at her) — Your lips drop as the honey-comb — 
your mouth is smoother than oil — but your feet go down to death 
— and your steps take hold on hell — 

RITA : — (A little anxious) — You don' t'ink God, 'E vill for- 
give me — no? (Smiling) — Ah, foolish vone — ! 'E vill! Did 'e 
not make my face so men 'ave al-vays lo-ove me — did 'E not put 
voice 'ere to de-light de wor-r-rld ? Did 'E not give to vone poo-oor 
leetle girl — who ask Tm not'ings — so much to carr-ee dat she lo-ose 
'er vay ? 'E vill not be sur-rpr-rise she stumbles so-ometimes — 'E 
vill not scol' much vhen she make meestake — 'E vill jos' smile an' 
keep 'Is candle bur-rning — an' in a leetle while she see it — an' co-ome 
'ome ! 

TOM : — Promise me something — 

RITA:— Vhat— ? 

TOM : — Take my hands and look me in the eyes — and promise 
me never to give yourself to any man again. 

RITA: — (Turning away in agony) — Ah, vhy don' you tr-r-rust 
me — vhy you doubt me so — ? 

TOM -.—(AloudJ— You won't—? 

RITA : — (Turning) — 'Ere — take my 'ands — (as he seises them) 
— 'Ow col' you ar-re ! — I promise — vhat you vant I say? — nevair 
to give myse'f to an-y man again I 

TOM: — (Devouring her with his eyes) — You swear it? 

RITA: — Ye-es — I swear! Now ar-re you satisfied? 

TOM : — (Suddenly uttering a cry of pain and hideous unrest) — 
A-ah ! (He brutally pushes her aiuay from him.) 

RITA:— Vhat is it now—? 

TOM: — I've just remembered that you swore before — 

RITA : — (Shrinking as she understands) — No — no — 

TOM: — You looked up — just as you're looking now — 

RITA : — (Putting up her hands as if to ward off a blow) — No 
— stop it ! 

TOM : — And you lied — and lied — you lied to me — 

RITA : — No — don't please — it is all different now ! 

TOM: — Different? I don't see it — why, it's just the same — 

RITA : — No — no — I tell you — / am diff'rent — / 'ave change — 
I am go-ing now to be goo-ood — 

TOM:— But can you? 

RITA: — Listen — ! (I vill stop singing) — leave de stage — fin' 
out a convent vhere dey take me in an' — (Suddenly) — Ecco! I 'aave 
it ! Dere ar-re so-ome nuns near Genoa who nur-r-rse de secck — 
I vill go str-r-raight from Napoli — lear-rn 'ow to 'elp — an' vor-rk 
until my flesh fall fr-rom de bone — 

TOM: — You'll do that — just to show me you're sincere? 

RITA : — (Imploringly) — I vill do all you vant — ye-es, anyt'ing 
— on-lee believe me or else I die ! 

TOM:— (Deeply moved)— All right. 

RITA: — (Hardly daring to believe) — Y'ou mean it — ? 

TOM : — (Huskily, his face working) — Yes, God bless you, 
dear — good-bye — (He turns away quickly) — My hat — I think I — 
(Seeing it on the piano)— Oh, there it is— I didn't remember just 



ROMANCE. 67 



where — (He steps suddenly and stands rigid. He has seen Van 
Tuyl's card, left on the piano by Signora Vannucci at the begin- 
ning of the act. A moment's pause.) 

RITA : — (Turning) — You don' fin' it — ^no ? Mebbe you — (Her 
zoice changes as she sees his face) — Vhat is it? 

TOM -.—(Trying to point)— Th2ii card— Van T\iy\—(He chokes 
suddenly.) 

RITA:— (Anxiously)— Mt&st2\r Van Tuyl— Ye-es? 

i:OU:—(lVith difficulty)— nes been here— then? 

RITA :— (Looking at him) — Si — si — 

TOM:— (Putting his hand to his throat)— To-n\^h.i'> 

RITA :— Ye-es— 

TOM: — (Hardly able to contain himself) — When — ? 

RITA: — Jos' be-fore you co-ome — 

TOM : — (With a yell of rage, seizing the card and crumpling 
GAL. WENTY-ONE— TOWER 

1/ in both hands) — Oh — ! What a fool I've been ! What a fool — 
what a fool — what a blind, miserable, wretched fool — 

RITA:— Vhat is it? Tell me— vhat 'as 'appen— ? 

TOM : — Why didn't I get it as soon as I saw you in that 
indecent dress — with your hair unbound — and the night-Hght burn- 
ing— 

RITA: — Vhat you mean — ? O dear-r Lor-r-rd — vhat you 
mean — f 

TOM : — Don't try to cheat me any more ! I know what's hap- 
pened in this room to-night — ! While I was tramping through the 
storm and snow, praying with my whole heart for your soul's 
redemption — (Pointing to bed-room) — you lay there laughing in 
your lover's arms — 

RITA :— (^5/w7/y;— No— no ! It is not true— 

TOM : — And then I came — another chance to make a fool of 
me ! And so you told me you'd repented — you smiled and smirked 

and Tell me, how did you keep your face straight? I'm 

rather curious to know? 

RITA : — (Piteously) — Please — Meestair Tom — jos' leesten — I 
vill— 

TOM: — (Savagely) — And I believed you! I believed! An- 
other splendid joke to tell Van Tuyl! And won't the old man love 
it — And he'll be dead right — even / can see it's funny — (He begins 
to laugh) — Funny f It's the richest thing I've heard for years 
and years — (He throivs his head back and laughs, loud and long) — 

RITA : — (Covering her ears) — Don' — don' — it is too ter-r- 
rible — 

TOM : — Come on — let's tell him together 1 

Where is he? Outside there, hanging round the corner? No? 
He's still here — slinking about some servant's passage-way — hiding 
behind a door at every sound — waiting till I have gone — and every- 
thing's quiet — and you whistle twice to tell him the coast is clear! 

RITA :— ("^/ww^r;— Dat is not so, I say! 'E co-ome in kin-ness, 
jos' be-cause 'e feel ver' sorr-ee for-r me — an' vhen 'e ask me to 
go back to 'im, I 'ave r-re-fuse — 

'TOM:— What? 

RITA: — I 'ave r-re-fuse — you 'ear me? — i 'ave tol'. 'im ''No!" 
— an' 'e is a gr-r-reat beeg man — an' on'erstan' — an' den I t'ank 'im 
— an' ve say ''goo-ood-bye" — 



68 ROMANCE. 



TOM:— (Fiercely)— You lie! Why, look at those two chairs— 
they look like a refusal, don't they? And those glasses— cham- 
pagne — 

RITA :— No— no— it is quite diff'ren'— you ar-re all meestake — 

TOM -.—(More and more fiercely)— A private orgy, planned and 
thought out days ahead ! Your last caresses— ^//^ has seised the 
table cloth with both hands) — 

RITA : — Oh, ta-ake car-re — 

TOM :— (Between his teeth)— A farewell debauch— ("//^ pulls 
the cloth and drags everything to the floor tvith a crash.) — 

RITA : — (Closing her eyes) — Oh — ! 

TOM -.—(Turning on her)—^ow will you dare deny Van Tuyl's 
your lover? 

RITA:— (Her eyes still closed)— Yes— \ Yes—! I do—! I 
do—! ^ (Beginning to sway a little as she speaks)— I 'aave r-re-fuse 
Mm an' I tell you vhy ! 1 t'ought it was be-cause I vant so much 
to be goo-ood — ! But now I know dat I vas all meestake' — / 
br-r-reak vit 'im be-cause I lo-ove anodder — 

TOU:— (Almost ready to kill her)— Who is he? 

RITA : — (Half fainting, as she opens her eyes and sways 
towards him, holding out her arms) — You 

TOM : — (Turning sharply as if she had struck him with a 
whip) — Don't — ! 

RITA : — (Pulling herself together) — Forgive me — 

TOM : — (Tzvisting his hands as if in prayer) — Oh, my God — 
Oh, my God ! 

RITA: — (Her back to him, holding the big chair for support) — 
If you don' min' — I mus' ask you now to leave me — it is almos' 
midnight — you 'ave your-r sair-vice in de chur-r-rch — an' I myself 
mus' — tr-r-ry to sleep a leetle — (Turning with an enormous effort 
and holding out her hand with a smile) — So goo-ood night! I 
'ope you — (Her words die azcay as she sees the expression on his 
face, then in a sudden paroxysm of terror) — Vhy you loo-ook at 
me like dat — ? (A brief pause) — Please go 'vay — ! (He doesn't 
move) — Go 'vay! 

TOM: — (Starting, wiping his forehead nervously, and trying 
to speak in his natural voice) — AH right — I'm going — yes — I'm 
going — (His tone deepening) — But first there's something we must 
do — what is it? I forget! Oh. yes, of course — We must pray 
together — that's it ! Pray for your soul and for your soul's salva- 
tion — 

RITA : — (Nervously) — No — go now ! I'm in God's 'ands — 'E 
vill take car-re of me — (In quick fear, he comes towards her) — Oh, 
vhat you vant — ? 

TOM : — (Thickly) — Come here — (He seizes her by the arm) — 
Kneel down ! (He sits on the couch and draws her down before 
him between his knees) — There — ! That's right! Give me your 
hands ! (He fumbles, finds them, and holds them tight against his 
breast. A silence, they look into each other's eyes.) 

RITA : — (Suddenly in wild terror as she looks up at him) — 
Pr-r-ray! Vhj. don' you pr-r-ray — ? pr-r-ray — (Half smothered) 
— O Gcsu — (In a silent fury of passion he has leaned forward, and, 
in spite of her struggles, now draws her up and crushes her in a 
terrible embrace) — 



ROMANCE. 69 



TOM: — (Triumphantly as he holds her tig-ht against him) — 
It's all over — I thought I came here to save you — but I didn't — it 
was just because Im a man and you're a woman — and I love you, 
darling — 1 love you — I love you more than anything in the world — 
(He is kissing her frantically) — 

RITA:— (Half fainting)— Oh— \ 

TOM : — (Between his kisses) — (With a laugh) — What a fool 
I've been ! But that's all right — it's not too late — we're here — 
together — and the night is ours — 

RITA :— (Terrified)— No— no— ! 

TOM : — It's ours — the whole, long, splendid night — it's ours — 
1 tell you — every marvellous minute — 

RITA : — (Struggling) — Don' — please — ! Oh, take away your 
'ands — 

TOM :— I won't— 

RITA :^It is be-cause I lo-ove you — 

TOM : — (Leaning forward to^ kiss her) — Ah ! I knew — ! 

RITA : — (Pushing him away from her) — An' so be-cause I 
lo-ove you — I mus' sa-ave you fr-rom your-self — ! 

TOM:— It's too late. 

RITA : — Now leesten — please I It is you who 'ave teach me 
vhat is lo-ove ! I 'ave know nod'ings — nod'ings — till vou show me 
all ! 

TOM: — Till I — ? (He breaks into a peal of jangled laugh- 
ter)— 

RITA: — To lo-ove a man is jos' vone beeg for-getting of von's 
self — to 'elp 'im vhen 'e need 'elp — if it cost your-r life — 

TOM ■.—(Laughing again) — Oh. darling — you don't really 
think that's love — ? 

RITA : — I know it — now. (With a sudden sob) — But, oh, I 
lear-rn it in such pain an' sor-r-row — (In passionate entreaty) — 
Don't take it f r-r-rom me — now dat it is mine ! 

TOM : — Oh, that's not love — why, that's the sort of rot I used 
to talk ! (Almost drunkenly) — But I know better now — you've 
taught me. darling — love isn't thinking or forgetting about any- 
thing — love's just feeling — it's being awfully sick and faint — as if 
you hadn't had anything to eat for years and years — it's — 

RITi\ : — (Interrupting) — Don' — ! Don' — ! You mus' not talk 
dat vay — 

TOM : — (Moistening his lipsJ—l love you — 

RITA : — (In despair) — Oh, t'ink of dat beeg lake — de lake of 
fir-re — de smoke an' tor-ment dat you tell me of — 

TOM : — (Recklessly) — I know — I'm lost — I'm done for — 
damned forever — ! But I'll have had this night — so I don't care! 

TOM : — (Holding open his arms) — Come, darlings-come — 

RITA: — (Shrinking) — No, nevair — nevair — ! Rather vould T 
die! 

TOM ■.—(Thickly)— You won't? All right— ("//^ starts for 
her)— 

RITA : — (Wild with fright) — Don' touch me — no— go back — 
ple£(se — keep avay — 

TOM : — But dear — we love each other — 

RITA:— Stop— ! 

TOM:— I won't! 

RITA : — (At bay against the wall) — For-r God's sake — 



70 ROMANCE. 



TOM: — (Close to her) — Oh, my darling— 

RITA -.—(Suddenly) — All right. But first— please go an' lock 
dat door-r. (A brief pause) — 

(He walks unsteadily towards the door — right. As soon as his 
back is turned, Rita rushes to her pillow and draws out the pistol 
she placed there earlier in the act.) — 

TOM: — (Turning and seeing) — What have you got there? 

RITA: — (Wildly) — De angel's veengs — I 'ear dem now — not 
lo-ve — but deat' — 

TOM: — (Holding out his hands) — Give me that pistol! 

RITA : — (Standing in the entrance to her bed-room, the weapon 
at her temple, her eyes closed) — De meenute dat I feel you touch 
me — I vill fir-re! 

(Pause. They are both breathing deeply. Tom, biting his 
underlip and never taking his eyes off her face, is crawling softly 
up on her other side — crouched like a beast — prepared to spring 
upon her unawares. Then, in the silence, just as he is ready to 
leap — from quite near-by is heard the first note of the midnight 
bell. The full, deep tones strike solemnly and slowly, up to four. 
Then, as it continues, the sound of a brass band and a choir of 
men's voices — sturdy and sweet — are heard from far away, grad- 
ually growing nearer. They are playing and singing the old Luth- 
eran Hymn, "Ein feste Berg." As Tom hears them, he gradually 
straightens and his old look and mangier come back to him. He 
goes rather unsteadily to the windozv and opens it. Outside it is 
quite clear — the snow has stopped. The hymn grows louder and 
nearer. Other bells have begun to strike — some close, some far 
away. He stands for a moment looking out; then turns to Rita, 
passing his hand over his forehead as one recovering from a 
dream. She has opened her eyes; the hand holding the pistol 
hangs limply at her side. She looks at him in an agony of silent 
appeal.) 

TOM : — (In his natural voice, very formal and polite, but a 
little constrained) — I beg your pardon — I must take my leave — 
(As he looks about for his hat) — My church — the choir — proces- 
sion — join them as they reach the Avenue — my apologies — disturb- 
ing you at such an hour — (At the door, fumbling blindly zvith the 
key) — I beg you to accept — very best wishes — coming year — my — 
my — good-night — good-bye — (He is gone without looking back once. 
As he spoke the pistol has dropped from her hand. Her lips move 
rapidly in silent prayer. She shuts her eyes and crosses herself. 
Her head droops and she begins to sway. She tries to cross her- 
self again, cannot, and, as the door closes, she sinks on the floor 
in a little heap, like a tired child. The hymn swells up in triumph 
as the lights fade. The scene is in darkness. The noise of the bells 
continues — whistles take it up. For a moment the bells and zvhistles 
nearly drown the hymn. Then they begin to die away. The voices 
singing are no longer heard. And the band playing the hymn has 
evidently shrunk. H is now almost grotesque — so very thin and 
cracked and out of tune. To this music and the fading sound of 
the bells the lights are gradually turned up again, and reveal the 
scene set for the Epilogue.) 



ROMANCE. 71 



The Epilogue 



SCENE: 

The Bishop's library again. The Bishop is sitting in the red 
glow of the dying tire, finishing his story. His grandson is at his 
feet. Outside are heard the last echoes of the bells and whistles. 
The little street band is still playing "Ein Fests Berg" (a lament- 
able performance). 

BISHOP: — And that's how 1 remember her — standing there all 
in white, with her hair loosened and her eyes shut. She crossed 
herself — 1 think now she was praying — and the next thing I knew 
I was on the sidewalk and my choir — God bless 'em — were coming 
round the corner of Tenth street, marching like soldiers to the 
same tune those wretched Germans are murdering outside there 
now. — (As they strike a particularly distressing dissonance) — Ah! — 
Really — that's too much ! Give them a quarter, Harry — and tell 
them to go away ! 

HARRY: — (Throwing up the window and calling) — Hi — you! 
That'll be enough for to-night ! Here — catch ! (He throws out a 
coin. The music stops. There is silence, save for a few far-off 
horns.) 

BISHOP: — (Rousing himself as Harry returns and putting the 
dead violets and the handkerchief in his pocket) — So that's what 
I wanted to tell you, my boy ! I came home that night an older — 
and 1 think a better man. It was the following June that your 
dear grandmother and I were married — Mr. Van Tuyl came all 
the way from Madrid just to be there and to give his niece away! 
They're tine people — the Van Tuyls — but your grandmother was the 
finest of them all. She made ni}^ life a happ}^ one — a very happy 
one indeed ! 

HARRY -.—(Boyishly)— And— MadsimQ Cavillini— ? 

BISHOP: — (Still looking in the fire and smiling) — She became' 
even more famous before her retirement — but of course, vou know — 

HARRY:— Where is she now? 

BISHOP: — I'm not sure — but I believe she's in Italy some- 
where living rather quietly. (Wistfully) — She and Patti are the 
only ones left — a wonderful career my boy — a very great artist — 
I never saw her again. 

HARRY: — (Patting his arm azvkw'ardly) — I think you're just a 
corker ! 

BISHOP: — (Smiling) — Nonsense — 1 But now I hope you 
understand I haven't quite forgotten what it feels like to be young — 
and although it's true I always read the Evening Post, I still can 
sympathize — and even presume to otTer some occasional advice. 

HARRY: — I know it— I appreciate it—! 

BISHOP: — (Very solemnly) — My dear, dear boy, unless your 
love is big enough to forget the whole world and yet remember 
Heaven, you have no right to make this girl your wife I 

(Brief pause.) 

HARRY: — (Rising abruptly) — Grandfather. I have been an ass! 
(He puts his hands iti his pockets and walks away.) 

BISHOP : — (Whimsically, as he wipes his glasses) — I suppose 
you have. Harry — I suppose you have ! 



72 ROMANCE. 



HARRY: — (Turning back again) — I've been an ass to hesitate 
one single minute ! However, it's all right novc^ — Lucille and I are 
going to get married as soon as eyer we can I 

BISUOF:— (Th or oiighly startled)— God bless my soul! But 
that isn't why I told you my story I I wanted to get this nonsense 
out of your silly young head. 

HARRY : — (Laughing affectionately as he stands behind the 
Bishop's chair and pats his shoulders) — Quite different, and it's too 
late now to change — (Suddenly) — Have you any engagement for 
tomorrow afternoon? 

BISHOP:— r^//// flustered) — \—\ can't say that I recall any at 
this moment — 

HARRY: — Then d'vou mind if we make one now? 

BISHOP:— Well— well— ! I declare! (He takes out his spot- 
less handkerchief and passes it nervously over his brow. The door 
opens and SUZETTE appears smiling brightly.) 

SUZETTE : — (Standing at the door) — Happy New Year, 
grandpa ! 

BISHOP:— Happy New Y'ear, mv dear! 

SVZKYTY.:— (Coming to his chair)— Well? 

BISHOP: — Suzette, I want 3^ou to order some white flowers 
and a cake — 

SUZETTE:— r?FiV/7 a wriggle of delight)— Ohl 

BISHOP: — (Very sternly) — For tomorrow afternoon — 4.30 1 
believe. 

SUZETTE: — (Flinging her arms around his neck) — You duck! 
I just knew Harrv could get around vou ! 

BISHOF:— (Twinkling)— Oh, did you? Well, now that you 
two have arranged everything to suit yourselves, would you please 
mind reading me my paper and then going to bed? (He leans 
back comfortablx and closes his eyes. 

SUZETTE-.— (Going to desk)— Where is it? Oh, yes! Wait 
till I turn on the lamp — (She switches on the electricity at desk, sits 
down ill a comfortable chair, crosses her knees, sighs, and unfolds 
the "Post" reading head lines.) 

BISHOP: — Is there any foreign news? 

SUZETTE: — (Sleepily) — Oh, just some uprising in Portugal — 
a new Chinese loan — (turning the page). Why, Cavallini's dead ! 
1 thought she died a long time ago, didn't you? 

(A slight pause.) 

BISHOP:— W^hat does it sav? 

SUZETTE:— Oh. it's just a cable. (Reading)— '^l\\2in, De- 
cember 30 — Mme. Marguerita Cavallini died this morning at her 
villa on the Lake of Como." 

BISHOP:— Is that— all? 

SUZETTE : — There's a whole column of biography stuck on 
underneath. Shall I read it? (Suddenly) — Oh, of course! I for- 
got ! She and Patti were your two great operatic crushes, weren't 
they? Well, she was born at Venice in 1841. That makes her — 
(Looking up thoughtfully) — Let me see — 

BISHOP:— Don't tell me how old she was! 

SUZETTE:— (Smiling)— AW right. (Running her eyes down 
the column)— E>ehwt at Milan in 1859— sang prima donna roles under 
the direction of Rossini — success in London — hm ! — brought to this 
country by Strakosch — appeared as "Mignon" at the Academy of 



ROMANCE. Th 



Music — (Looking up) — Everyone went mad over her, didn't they ? 
(Resuming) — Opera and concert tours over all the civilized globe. 
Retired in 1889 — numerous charities — founded and endowed a home 
in Paris for poor girls who came to study music — in 1883 created 
Marchese Torrebianchi by King Umberto 1 — the intimate friend of 
Rubinstein, Grieg and Paderewski — never married. That's funny, 
isn't it? (Turning the page) — Well, no matter what you say, I bet 
she wasn't a bit more wonderful than my divine Geraldine ! (Read- 
ing) — "Anglican Congress at Detroit — Federation of Churches — 
Further plans." (Bored) — Oh, dear ! There's the old Conference 
again. (She yawns and looking up notices that the Bishop's head 
has fallen.) Sleepy, grandpa? 

BISHOP; — (Rousing himself) — 1 — ? No, my dear, I was just 
thinking — that's ail. 

SUZETTE: — (With affectionate impudence) — I don't believe it I 
(Yawning) — Well, / am, anyway. May I go to bed now? 

BISHOP: — Of course, my dear, of course. 

SUZETTE:— M^ she alights like a bird on the arm of his chair 
and kisses the top of his head) — Oh, grandpa, you are such an old 
darling ! 

BISHOP:— Thank you, my dear. 

SUZETTE: — (At door) — Please don't sit up too late, will you? 
And don't forget to turn off all the lights l)efore vou come upstairs. 

BISHOP:— rA/^H'/y;— I'll do my best. 

SUZETTE: — Grandpa! (He turns in his chair. She smiles 
and blows him a kiss) — I love you! (She runs out.) 

(He sits alone for a moment in silence, then rising slowly, he 
closes the door and listens. There is no sound. Almost stealthily 
he goes over to the case where the phonograph records are kept, 
l-'Uts on his glasses and looks over those lying on the top. Finallv 
he selects one ivith much care and gingerly puts it on the machine. 
He starts it going. Then switching off the lights, returns to his 
armchair by the fire. A ruddy glozv lights up his figure. He care- 
fully takes from his inside pocket the dead violets and the zvomans 
handkerchief. Looking at them, he smiles a tender little ghost of a 
smile and slowly sits dozvn. The rich voice thrills through the 
darkness. 

" Ken list du so wohl? 

Dahin! Dahin! 
Mochf ich mit dir. O me in Geliebter, siehn!" 
THE CURTAIN FALLS SOFTLY. 



FEB 8 1913 







PRINTED BY 

TOWER BROS. STATIONERY CO. 

23 WEST 23B0 ST.. 

NEW YORK 



